#i can forgive/forget what you did to me but you fucked with a mutual friend of ours in a way that makes you UNDOUBTEDLY ta

[shadowboom500]

ayyyyyy this sounds a lot like smth that happened to me a while back, so desbea if this is you.

tldr: if this is who i think it is, i cared about you but i left bc your "passing comment" made me feel utterly unsafe around you for your compete lack of respect for my bodily autonomy. this is an ESH situation bc i was admittedly an ass about the whole thing and could def have handled it better.

i will readily admit i did some shitty things and didnt let the argument go when i should have just ended the friendship peacefully. we had fundamentally different views that couldn't be resolved, even if we cared about each other deeply.

even my "im not your therapist" comments were intended to be "im a guy your age doing his best with other shit on his plate. ill do my best and will listen and advise but you need a professional and i am not that" and im sorry i wasnt clearer.

however, what was a passing comment for you was about these fundamentally incompatible views. i wont say what this was, as i made a goddamn promise that i will keep, and it'll bias the votes.

we argued about it multiple times, but we had a pinned agreement that "i want to stop this conversation" that we agreed would always be respected. you did not use it, at least not that i remember. i did, you were aware we could have stopped the debate any time. you could have started a discussion about how you didnt want to keep doing this. im sorry if you didnt feel safe to do so but im not psychic and i didnt know you wanted to stop bc you did not tell me.

and the final straw was you telling me that you would have no issue forcing me to go through a situation that i considered worse than death, with full awareness about just how much "worse than death" meant to me.

i felt horrendously violated and unsafe continuing to be friends with you while you held such a belief and told you as such, and THAT was what caused the insulting including "go fuck yourself with a cactus" and "cant see past your own fucking self-righteous nose", before i muted you and started barely talking to you. i "shunned" you because i was uncomfortable continuing to be around you but didnt have the energy or understanding of how to end things, bc we were both teenagers and this was my first friendship breakup.

eventually however i had the energy and told you what i was so hurt by, and either you would apologise for that or id end the friendship for my own safety/comfort.

you proceeded to guilt trip the hell out of me for it, whether consciously or not, and give me a half-assed apology about how you were "sorry i was hurt by what you said".

i responded by telling you, admittedly less than tactfully that that wasnt an apology, that was you being sorry your actions had conseqeunces you didnt like. (again. i was asking you to apologise for telling me youd be fine with forcing me to go through a fate i considered worse than genuinely killing myself.) i also said a comment i regret for being not what i meant about me "not wanting to hate you", when i meant i outright didnt hate you.

you started insulting me and then i blocked you.

i genuinely cared about and supported you, you were someone i considered a close friend and i dont regret knowing you or caring about you. you had abandonment issues and i promised i wouldnt leave you, but if you tell all your friends that even though theyd consider a certain fate the worst imaginable for them youd be down with forcing them through it, i can see why they left.

so yeah. im not a great person and should have handled this better, but fucking hell man.

AITA for ditching my best friend and not believing what they say?

My former best friend was great. We were the same age. We just got each other, and they never seemed to think I was weird as they were also autistic. They would regularly tell me they loved me and I trusted them. I trusted them to keep their word and to not be hypocritical, as they were also my confidant.

Not too long ago we got into an argument over a passing comment I had made about myself. They ended when they either took a break or I "won," but it didn't feel like winning. I was calm while they weren't afraid of insulting me. I thought we had agreed to disagree; I thought the best of them. But then they admitted that they would post things out of spite and ignore me even though they made a vent post about the same situation happening to them? (On this occasion they talked behind that person's back to a bunch of other people, then later said they talked it out)

Then they wanted me to "repent" about something i said a few months ago as a hypothetical, as in "an apology isn't enough" even though they already admitted beforehand that i was right and they agreed with me. They used our friendship as a bargaining chip. I don't know if it's related but they knew I had abandonment issues.

I was torn about choosing between my morals and their friendship. They were everything to me. I replied and left the internet for a few months, especially because they told me to leave the situation if I couldn't handle it. It was hard knowing that my depression before that incident was probably because they would regularly talk down to me and start arguments seemingly at random. I always responded to them and would send messages if they were "out of energy," when in reality they were shunning me.

It's a few months later and whenever I hear about anything they do I don't believe it at all, like them taking awhile to do something for a mutual friend. I don't even believe what they said before, that they loved me.

I feel bad about running away. I was having a breakdown and should've handled it better, but I fled like a coward. I also feel bad about the confidant thing--I was a burden for letting it show. They would sometimes say "I'm not your therapist" but also they were the one who inspired me to talk to people. (And they never said to stop telling them about myself)

It feels unfair to assume they're always wrong, too. Love to me is piecing together your friends like a puzzle and maybe not agreeing with them, but understanding.

I can't help but think they never loved me and instead wanted validation? Maybe I'm too harsh or I'm not understanding it, but the friendship was so bad at that point that I would barely flinch at the insults and instead compliment their "creativity." I hate to admit it, but I thought that them blowing up at me was... a privilege. Trusting me enough to show their true colors. I'll always remember how kind they were to me and I know I'll never find anyone else like them.

But still, AITA for running away? For unfairly assuming that they never tell the truth? One situation doesn't account for everything, right?

What are these acronyms?

[triglycercule]

what do you think of murder time trio poly

i thought someone would never ask.

murder time trio poly is like the sun is to a plant. me being the plant of course. without it i simply could not live a satisfactory life and would die out. i have so much to say about them

see now WHY is the ship so damn good?? because they're practically made for each other without even knowing it like hello why are these three characters with the same origin point so perfect for eachother despite having different backstories and personalities. the creators were all across the world yet these three fit so well together you might as well think that SAS rahafwabas and askdusttale communicated telepathically to place all these parallels and dynamics into theri aus. they have so much chemistry together even when theyre not being shipped it's unreal. you will never see them apart in art because they're the mtt. they literally have their own trio name that's how iconic they are together (they mightve stolen it from the bad time trio but its ok its ok they deserve it). you don't see any other characters beings referred to those names aside from the bad sanses and star sanses so that just shows how awesome they are together

they don't even have to be in love to be good with eachother like hello. even in their duos theyre so good for eachother but it feels incomplete without all three. and the best part is that they don't even know eachother canonically so it's completely up to personal interpretation how you think they would be together. like canon is already juicy enough already but theres still so many other interpretations based on aus or headcanons or literally just who is thinking about them (i love seeing other people's interpretations of the mtt because its always so different. you will never find two versions of them that are the same from two different people)

dust and killer have their beef with eachother where they hate the other for what theyve done but it's onesided mostly from dust. dust doesn't like him but he tries to avoid him (canonically. ya i read the dusttale blog and you should too) and yeah killer has a grudge against him because dust is an asshole but he just keeps bothering him and getting up into his business because hes curious and needs entertainment to distract himself and slowly but surely they start warming up to eachother and become frienemies. they will NEVER truly become full friends because they simply are too traumatized to do so. dust will always resent killer for teaming up with the human and killer will never be able to get dust to forgive him because he is permanently stuck as killer sans but they can try. they can try to be friends even if they fucking hate eachothers guts. they can stab eachother and then go patch themselves up. they won't help the other tend to their wounds but they will offer some offhand comments here and there if killer misses a gash or dust forgets about a bone he needs to fix. this is as healthy as they get but it's okay. the mutual rage is what makes kist work

like kist horror and dust don't like eachother either. it's a mutual thing for all three of them that they fucking hate eachother. but unlike kist (or horrorkiller aswell) horrordust are the "nicest" to each other. dust pities horror. he feels bad that horror had to go through something terrible all at the hands of a human just like he did. he knows that horror did some questionable things (why in horror's not so right mind did he think feeding papyrus HUMAN FLESH was a good idea. he understands why and all but it still upsets him) but it's not like dust will comment on it. dust doesn't have the right to after all the bullshit he did. but horror hates this he hates that dust pities him. he KNOWS what he did was wrong and he absolutely resents being reminded of what he did, or even getting the slightest bit of pity for himself (because nobody should feel bad for him especially after all he did. he doomed the underground and ruined his papyrus and changed everyone for the worse out of rage). horror and dust mutually avoid eachother (dust out of respect and horror out of disrespect ����💀) but they eventually have a few interactions. they get along FINE. they have some passive aggressive bickering mostly started by horror and dust fires back but overall their relationship is courteous. they do get into fights but unless both of them are in a REALLY bad mood theyll likely just leave the other before it gets physical. they would get along fine if they could just fucking trust eachother but they don't. that tension will always be there where they judge eachother

horrorkiller is similar to kist. except not. like with dust, horror probably really doesn't like killer for similar reasons and killer probably bothers horror out of curiosity too. except the way they react is different from kist/horrordust. horror doesn't explode like dust does when killer riles him up. instead he just insults him back passive aggressively with no fire behind it because he knows that killer's just looking for entertainment (he also thinks killer's below him. probably.) killer is ngl intrigued by this. he wants to know what will make horror snap just like dust does at him. so he tries to make his insults more and more mean, but horror can actually spit back without getting mad and it bothers killer. he tries sabotage (pranks) but it turns out that horror likes pranks. what will it take for killer to piss him off??? (it's insulting actions like killing a papyrus literally infront of horror and making it a mockery it's disrespecting food in front of horror with intent to piss him off etc etc) but it takes killer a long ass time to figure this out and by then hes kinda become somewhat decent friends with horror (friendsISH. a canonesque murder time trio will never truly become friends with eachother)

"okay but triglycercule you fiend. none of this is about murder time trio POLY. this is about them as friends and you should never speak again." i hear you disembodied voice in my head but let me tell you this: mttpoly is literally just them as friends. and you wannanknow why its because of qprs. yaaaa personally i don't think that a canonesque mtt would be anything more than a qpr. dust wouldnt be interested in romantic partners (i think dusttale blog said that. dusttale blog i love you.) horror would rather die and have bis corspe fed to undyne than even think of doing anything non plstonic with either of those losers and killer just does not give a damn about the specifics of their relationship (because he's cool like that) and ya sure there are versions of them out there who might be more than a QPR and i wholeheartedly love those idas because i love these three but my personal canon(ish. nothing is truly canon unless it comes out of the holy mtt trinity of creators) interpretations. also none of this even considers the whole boatload of aus and personal hcs and other stuff that other contexts and people who can take these templates of characters that have never met and make them into something amazing with their interactions

but yeah. i just think theyre neat

[strawberry-metal]

Since you understandably portray Narancia as being yandere for Sakura in this AU, what would you say are some of the most yandere things he has done thus far?

Hmm, ok, I'm pretty tired so do forgive me if I make mistakes or things are a little hard to read!

-He once completely lost it and set a street on fire with Aerosmith when he thought she was kidnapped and couldn't find her anywhere, as Sakura ran away to try and find more information on what happened to her parents and friends when she was thrown into the future, finding out they died thinking she was a missing person for ten years or worse, dead. The two end up running into eachother, Sakura puts the fire out with her magic, and she ends up breaking down to him and going on and on about how she needs to go back and change the past.

-This is when he's absolutely terrified of losing her. She's in an overcharged state from her magic so she could not only die if she keeps pushing herself so hard, and no one knows if she'll actually be able to come back to the future if she goes back to ten years ago. So the world becomes dark and bleak, he can't recognize his friends and loved ones anymore. Only Sakura and his adoptive mom, Saki. He keeps Sakura locked up for 'her own safety'. He almost jams his knife into Mista's eyeball at one point, but was stopped because thankfully Yasha was there to stop him. Saki is the one who is able to snap him out of it and he's mortified at what he's done. He does all he can to make it up to everyone and lets Sakura out.

-When Sakura goes through the loops of death, to try and save everyone from their fate from Diavolo after she fucks things up, Narancia ends up being intertwined heavily by the strings of fate due to being the one most closely involved in the loops with Sakura. The only other person who remembers is Fugo for much the same reason. (Sakura would always meet with him at the pier and try to comfort him and give him lire so he could live alone ok. Fugo's fate of not going with the gang was sealed and was something almost impossible to change. Throughout the 2 month period of resetting, he only left with the gang once.) Mareike and Arusa also remember, but that's because Arusa is Sakura's familiar, and Mareike is a ghost....witch who was Sakura's mentor, and experiences the loops without forgetting a thing each time. Bound to Narancia after each reset. Think Madoka Magica when it comes to Narancia and Sakura. This is how Narancia has so much potential as a warlock afterwards and how he becomes so powerful so quick. Naturally, from retaining memory after the loops, he is extremely protective of Sakura now. He HAS killed for her, but he limits doing this only when their lives are endangered. However, it does take literally every ounce of his self control to not stab someone who speaks ill of her.

-He gets jealous really easily and doesn't like other guys to hug on her. He's fine with her having male friends and all the like, he just gets jealous oh so easily and doesn't wanna see another guy touch her even if it's platonic.

-An extra note, Narancia actively tries to be better about these feelings and violent urges. He holds himself back often and even seeks help. He is aware of the things he did wrong and acknowledges them and tries to be a better person for Sakura and his familigia.

So, he is a yandere, and he was a violent unstable one at first, but he is trying his best to be better and seek help for the way he acts and thinks. Sakura's relationship with him is mutual and not one sided, and he also has the support of his family. Rei arc and onwards, he's actually the one who helps Sakura heal from all the trauma she's endured for so long.

[toast-tales]

Please forgive me if this is an odd question, but how did you make friends? Especially in your 20s?

Hah- I am *not* the person to ask, lmao. I am actually trash at making friends because I tend to just...not want to put myself out there out of fear of doing something embarrassing, and then people just kind of forget about me. For a long time, my mindset was "I'd rather leave no impression at all than a bad one." With the greatest respect to my past self possible, fuck that way of thinking

It's easier to make friends in college, but outside of that? Now, I tend to make friends mostly online. Honestly, it's all a matter of engaging with people. Going to events. Getting involved. Asking people about their interests. Generally, if you take that first step and show you're interested, people remember that! And that's how the mutual interaction can start, if you have stuff in common and your personalities click. I made a lot of friends just by taking the plunge and joining a discord game night server and scrounging up enough courage to talk to a few people I admired.

And second, you gotta put a bit of yourself out there. Be unapologetically you. People are attracted to confidence! Trust me - fitting in sucks and you get nothing out of it. Do the things you like to do, make the things you want to make, and along the way, you just might find people who enjoy what you do or who like the things you do. It might take time, but the most important thing is to enjoy life while you can, without worrying too much about if other people like you or not!

[goremet-chef]

maybe ill tell my mom im hungry? im so. my entire LIFE i have always always hated asking for things like so much so that i stopped asking for things on my BIRTHDAY because im like. terrified of being seen as selfish? idk its funny cuz parents will like. god forbid i get a treat when im a kid, then all the grown ups in my life look down and call me spoiled as if they didnt give me the treat, and they still think children arent capable of complex thought so they didnt anticipate that id internalize it for the rest of my life but here we are 😁😁

so i just. god i hate asking for things it makes me feel so shitty but i think shes gonna go somewhere anyways? and EVENTUALLY hes going to run out of things to cook so maybe if i ask she'll bring home some food (vent/rant)

that is one thing that always bothers me tho ive got? idk my mom is. shes my mom i guess, currently she treats me very nicely but when her bf was gone for a few years all that anger was directed at me so yknow. i guess shes over it? or she tries to make up for it, but if im not given an apology, i wont forgive or forget even. it was mutual, lots of arguing on the basis of politics at time, but sometimes it was just fucking nothing, to the point where she'd even admit that i didnt deserve that treatment its just. SIGHHHHH im over it at this point im just trying to get out atp yknow? but like

my sibling asks for LOTS of things. and they get all of them. money for computer parts? sure. money for literally any thing? sure. new game? sure

im not bitter about it, as long as my mom can afford it i dont care. but like....... whenever I ask for things, its usually a no

because of my BPD, i take rejection really hard, its the worst pain in the world so i kinda just stopped asking for anything at all to avoid the feeling. then they always are like "ohh what do you want for yr birthday we cant just get you nothing" but i actually DID ask for something on my birthday. i asked for a copy of pokemon black for the ds. it was the only thing ive directly asked for in years, and i didnt get it which is super embarrassing. like whats the point of bothering me about what i want if you dont listen to me when i do? they always get me what they THINK i want and its this really outdated version of me that doesnt even exist anymore, its makes me dissociate knowing thats what they see me as when im just not that anymore. even when i tell them its null

IDK its jsut a whole thing, idk how to feel about it anymore. its to the point where like. my friends take me out sometimes but i mean. they know im broke, they know i have no job, they know i have no income. but im terrified the entire time that theyre gonna like. ask me to pay or something, and i always do my best to just do nothing when we go out cuz i really like. even when they offer to get me things it makes me feel so fucking shitty man i feel like im just leeching off of them even when they offered. even when they tell me they like getting me things it just. it feels so bad. and GOD its embarrassing, when we're walking around stores and all im doing is just following them around because i have like FIVE DOLLARS in my pocket at most. things like that make me want to never leave my house again, it just sucks.

im jealous of them if im honest, because they have jobs and i dont. but i dont think? i genuinely am unsure id ever be able to get a job. im not well adjusted like them, im constantly dissociating, constantly tired, my sibling yesterday, i made a comment about my mom leaving without telling me at all and he was like "well she said she was leaving on the weekend didnt she?" like yes, she did, but i genuinely have no idea what day it is at any given point. all i know is the number, i dont know the day of the week ever.

like im so. fucked, im fucked! totally, even if i managed to get me shit together, relearn the days of the week, set a good sleep schedule, im fucked anyways because i dont know how to be a person at all. an interview sounds fucking terrifying, ESPECIALLY if i dont know the questions theyre going to ask. i do really REALLY poorly with actual human conversation, like its painful. and pretty much everyone around me thinks im kinda creepy or weird in some way, so theyd DEFINITELY be able to tell. i have no resume, i dont even know what that IS. like im so fucked!! i wasnt able to pass highschool, i cant partake in a conversation if i dont somehow have both sides planned perfectly.

little unsure about my odds, gotta be honest

but at the same time like? i keep hearing people say "if you cant work then get disability insurance" am i disabled? everyone around me tells me im just not trying hard enough. they laugh at me when i say i just cant. even if it covers mental illness, i? i dont know. im constantly in denial of things because my family specifically my mom like. a long time ago she told me i just couldnt be autistic, because im "too smart"

?????? it showed me immediately that she has absolutely no fucking idea what shes talking about ever, i bet she couldnt list more than 2 symptoms of autism like genuinely. im not even smart also????? maybe id be a genius, if i could retain information after 5 minutes 💀💀 its complete bullshit man, im just. im at a loss

and then they have the audacity to mock me for not knowing how to be a person in the world, when THEY shouldve taught me. it was THEIR job to help guide me through it, and they didnt. they laugh and roll their eyes and scoff when i tell them oh i dont know how to use a stove, i dont know what food stamps are i dont know how to dress for a job interview ETC

they expect ill know, that i wouldve jsut picked it up over time but surprise! i didnt. i need instruction i need CLEAR instruction and no one will give it to me. its so frustrating man, they suck ass and they just make me feel WORSE about myself. like good fucking god, give me a break

idk im just. exhausted. im tired of just cramming my problems down because the people around me are incapable of seeing me as anything other than a child, and children dont have problems, right? i have no right to complain if my backs constantly hurting, if im too tired to feed myself properly, if i cant leave my house for 2 seconds without feeling the deepest dread. like be so serious bro

i cant wait to fucking move out, but.. how? my friends said its okay if i cant always make enough money from art to pay rent, but no. i dont believe them at all. theyre just being nice to me and i dont even deserve that, i fucking refuse i cant just. im always dead weight, its so frustrating. it frustrates the people around me, too. i feel like such a fucking burden man, its so tiring. if its not things i just dont know how to do, its fear. oh i cant help clean the garage because its crawling with spiders, i cant take out the trash because the trash bins are crawling with spiders. i cant walk down the stairs because i saw a spider on the ground. they fucking hate me man

i know what they see me as, but i have no idea how to convince them that its not me. they think im rude because i dont know how to properly communicate, i say things and its rude to them and i feel bad because i didnt intend to come off that way. everyone thinks im selfish, they think im overdramatic. exaggerating. if they could live in my head for one day, they wouldnt think that anymore

its so exhausting because you dont even get any sort of sympathy from them! just like. awkward pity, and it makes me wish i was never born. never oh im sorry yr feeling that way, do you wanna talk about it? never

they see me as such an obvious burden but they? i dont know! i genuinely cant understand, they think i just have no complex emotions? they think i cant hear it, cant see it? they think i dont feel like a burden when they tell me i am. its so stupid

i cant stand being around anyone, and it just pushes me FURTHER into dissociation. ive got an interesting thing with that. see, typically when yr dissociate with a dissociative disorder like OSDD or DID, that hazy period in time opens up for another alter to front, you dissociate away and get tucked inside yr head. except i get maladaptive daydreams. so im fully dissociated in another world basically but im still physically present. its like i just always take up space thats never meant for me, in every conceivable way. i hate it.

i know, when i finish typing this, ill feel a lot better. which is just embarrassing, bpd fucking sucks. having no emotional permanence is EMBARRASSING when im over here crying on my knees about my problems and then the second i get it out i feel completely fine. it just makes me invalidate my very real emotions even further and its so.

im just. whatever.

just spit it out and stop looking that way

[wheredafandomat]

The Country Club ✨

Loki x female reader

Part 5 ~ Stuck in the mud

Previous Part

Italics = flashbacks

NEXT

Making your way to breakfast after showering, doing your hair and getting changed, you tried to avoid everyone’s gaze, embarrassed about what happened last night. You didn’t know which part was more embarrassing. The fact that you smashed a glass in your hand or the fact that Loki turned up with a new girlfriend after everything as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t disappeared and left you with no warning. There were arrows that pointed towards the breakfast buffet hall which you followed.

Walking inside, it was if all conversations seized to exist. You looked around at the familiar faces, all of which looked back at you, each with their own reassuring smiles. Taking a deep breath, you picked up a plate before placing some pastries onto it.

“How’s the hand?” You heard from over your shoulder.

“Please Loki please, just leave me alone.” You sighed.

“Can we speak?” He asked.

Why couldn’t he get the message NO!

“Are you hard of hearing?” You huffed, turning to face him.

“You’ve always been so stubborn.” He tutted as before you zoned out, remembering something.

“You’re a stubborn little thing aren’t you?” Loki grinned devilishly, standing behind you as you bent over your sofa as he spanked you.

“Yesss.” You answered.

“I thought you used to like me stubborn.” You quipped, snapping out of your thoughts as you glared at him.

“Maybe I still do.” He smirked, leaning down closer towards you. You looked up at him, watching as his eyes fell closed as he inhaled your scent. “How naughty, you know that’s my favourite.” He teased leaving you flustered. How dare he do what he done and then leave you flustered? He was such a prick, ultimate prick.

“Beautiful fucking prick” you whispered under your breath as you felt his hair tickling your cheek, he was so close. You quickly pushed the thought of just reaching up and kissing him away as you spun back around. How was it that he still had so much control over you even after he hurt you so bad? That must just be love, it’s easier to forgive and forget than it is to be apart. “Don’t be silly.” You murmured to yourself. Spotting Nat and Steve, you decided to sit with them.

“Hey guys.” You smiled.

“Morning y/n.” They both said in unison.

“Guys you don’t have to be awkward about the whole last night thing. Me and Loki broke up, well we weren’t really together, it’s confusing. Look can we just eat breakfast please. Stop with the questions.” You rambled.

“Y/n, no one asked any questions.” Nat clarified, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Good, let’s eat.” You smiled before spotting Bucky walking in. You waved at him, a gesture he returned. You all ate, ensuring you didn’t talk about last night. You kept your gaze forwards, not wanting to see Loki in your peripheral vision especially if he was eating with Darcy. You knew you’d have to speak to her eventually but what would you even say? You weren’t close enough for this to be a violation of girl code but what about ethics. There must be a rule that states one shall not fuck the ex that made mutual friend cry after disappearing. Soon after, there was a bell chime noise before you heard Jane and Thor speaking.

“Morning guys, we’ve got a treat planned for you all.” Jane began “spaaa dayyy.” They said together, Thors deep voice dominating.

“Great.” You huffed.

After breakfast, you, Wanda and Bucky made your ways outside, taking in some of the sunshine whilst you tried your hardest to avoid Loki. He wasn’t worth your energy and so you wouldn’t give him any. Afterwards, Jane and Thor rounded everyone up before leading you all towards the spa retreat that they had on site. Your gaze didn’t focus on Loki but it did land on him a couple times and it was strange to see him and Darcy standing so far apart considering how close they were the night before. Maybe he left her too. He had a tendency to do that.

You and the rest of the girls opted for massages after changing into robes that were provided. Afterwards, you spotted the mud bath that was yet to be explored. Considering you were not alone, you opted for keeping the robe you wore tightly secured to you as you stepped in, almost slipping before steadying yourself, mindful of your injured hand. Closing your eyes, you sank into the mud. Pure relaxation. You let out a content hum.

“Now that’s a noise I haven’t heard in a while.”

“And suddenly I’m not feeling relaxed anymore.” You said, opening your eyes to be met by Loki who was standing at the edge of the bath.

“All I want are a few moments to explain.” He requested.

“Explain? Explain what? Why you left me? I honestly don’t want to hear it Loki.” You dismissed, willing yourself to not cry. “And thanks for embarrassing me last night. I hope you’re both really happy.” You added, regretting it when your voice broke at the end.

“That wasn’t my intention.” He assured.

“Listen Loki I’m only here to support my friends, I couldn’t care less about you okay.” You lied “bye.” You announced before trying to stand up, eyes widening when you couldn’t. There’s no way I’m fucking stuck you thought, trying to hoist yourself out again. Watching you struggle, Loki smirked, that same smirk he always had when you overcame your stubbornness and asked him for help. He was such a prick.

“Need any help?” He asked, offering his hand.

“I’d rather sink.” You scoffed.

“Stop being childish.” He chuckled making you even angrier. What the fuck was funny?

“Childish? No I’ll tell you what childish is. Childish was me knowing that regardless of how distraught I was, I would have still welcomed you back but you didn’t come back did you? You left me Loki so excuse me if I don’t allow you to just speak to me whenever you want because you don’t deserve it.” You said through gritted teeth as you welled up.

He was silent for a few moments as if letting your words drown him. He even looked slightly guilty. Good.

“At least let me help you out of the mud.” He offered his hand. Spotting Bucky coming towards you, you grabbed his hand getting his attention. Bucky helped you out of the mud as Loki watched with a clenched jaw before you pushed him in, surprising even yourself when he yelped, smacking into the mud. You regretted it when he landed weirdly, hair covered in mud. He didn’t even look at you. You didn’t mean to hurt him, not that he didn’t deserve it. Part of you wanted to hear him explain whatever stupidness he had thought of as to why he left you all alone in the hopes that it would be enough, enough for you to forgive him because that’s the problem with love. It was always easier to forgive and forget.

Sorry about that mate 🤣

[damiano-mylove]

Movie Night

Pairing: Damiano David x fem!reader

Wc: 2.6k (sorry)

Cw(s): SMUT, bit of angst, swearing ofc, long for some reason, begging, not proof read

*Masterlist*

Work is a healthy habit to get into - to a certain extent. If you work to avoid your problems, that's not particularly one of the most healthy things to do. The only problem working can fix is if you're poor, but really minimum wage doesn't fix that either.

But your Damiano wasn't poor, he wasn't being paid minimum wage. You knew how much he loved working on music with his friends, but he was barely home and you missed him. Being without Damiano almost felt like being without your left arm - especially since it had been so abrupt, going from him spending a few hours writing, to spending almost a full day in the studio.

Tonight was supposed to be movie night. That Damiano had suggested. To make up for lost time.

So, you found yourself, alone, on your velvet red couch, watching Alice in Wonderland, with your cat on your lap. His purrs filled whatever wavelengths were left empty by the film, but you didn't mind that at all. Your fingers found their way into his incredibly soft fur, which felt like silk between those fingers of yours.

The clock soon struck midnight, and the film hit the end credits soon after. Damiano was still not home from the studio, which almost worried you. Almost. In the earlier days of him spending all of his time at Vic's for writing or in the studio, you had thought he'd run off with someone else. You woke up the next morning with him next to you, but that never really put that specific worry to rest.

"Romeo, Baby," you whispered to the silver tabby cat on your lap. He flicked his tail to let you know he heard you. "Dad's not home yet and I'm tired, we gotta go to bed. C'mon." Romeo only lifted his head to lay his grass green eyes on you once you stopped scratching his neck. You smiled to him, though his eyes didn't return it. "You've got half a minute before I move your furry tush."

To no one's surprise, Romeo took more than half a minute so you picked him up like a baby over your shoulder. Your palm cradled his soft feet. Like the lazy cat he was, Romeo fell back asleep on your shoulder on your short walk to your bedroom that you shared with the one and only, Damiano. He used to be a god to you, but now he was basically a roommate who you shared a kiss with every once in a while.

With Romeo asleep on the bed before you finished putting on pyjamas, you slunk off to brush your teeth. The door unlocked. Your heavy eyes cast unto the clock on the wall which read nearly half midnight.

Damiano came in like a whisper in the wind, save for the closet opening so he could deposit his coat. Shaking you head, you just finished brushing your teeth. Your mouth felt dry even though you'd just rinsed it with water.

"Cara mia," Damiano purred once his eyes caught your figure in the lamp light from the bedroom. You smiled at him and went into the bedroom to curl up with your cat and go to sleep. You had work in the morning and customers didn't appreciate workers who look like sleep-deprived zombies.

This was the first time in a long time that you didn't immediately greet him once he came through the door. So Damiano could sense a shift in the mood of the flat; really, he felt it as soon as he walked in and smelt chocolate and strong tea.

His footsteps never gave away where he was, but you could feel his presence enter the room. The bed dipped on the end just as Romeo curled further into you. When Damiano's hand held your ankle, Romeo let out a soft meow.

"What's wrong, Amore?"

"Did you forget or did you do it on purpose?" You immediately sat up as you asked the question. You were tired and to act like it was fine just wasn't in the cards tonight. Damiano's eyebrows drew together. You began to nod. "Movie night? You said you'd come home early to watch a film with us."

Damiano's face darkened in realization. You pursed your lip balm coated lips. Even Romeo could sense the tension and decided to stand up and sit square on your thighs, facing your boyfriend as if to protect you. Damiano looked to his hands which rested in his lap.

After a second, he said, "I-I thought that was tomorrow."

"Tonight was Tuesday night, now it's Wednesday morning," you muttered. Your fingers found the reassuring warmth of Romeo's fur once again and Romeo let out a rather sad sounding meow. "Oh, Romeo, don't worry. Dad just has to tell us he's sorry then we can sleep."

Both you and your cat looked to your boyfriend with tired but expectant eyes. Damiano's eyes never tore from his hands. Then it was like he was speaking to himself. "I was going to buy you flowers. And let you pick the film. And you were supposed to fall asleep on my shoulder, on the couch."

"It's okay, Dami, it's just a movie night," you told him. But your conscience caught you before you continued. Why the fuck were you reassuring him when he was the one who fucked up? Tell you that he'll be home in time for a sort of date night, then skip out. "We'll do it another night, it's all good."

"It's not all good, Y/n." One thing you could agree on tonight, though you'd never say that out loud. Finally, Damiano lifted his eyes from his soft hands. You noticed his eyes shimmer in the lamplight. "I really fucked up your night and for no good reason. I'm really sorry."

Leaning forward, you patted his arm. "Forgiven. We're adults and life gets in the way of romance."

"Not always, and not for us. I'm supposed to be the best boyfriend in the world but I've barely been a boyfriend to you at all lately, and I apologize." His words were stringing together faster in faster as he kept trying to keep his tears at bay. "It's just with the new album and everything, I'm finding out how shitty I am at balancing my life." Damiano came closer to you, holding your hand that once held his arm. "How can I make it up to you, Y/n? You're the love of my life and I don't want us to fizzle out."

For some reason, a little chuckle escaped your lips. His passion for you warmed your heart as you caught a glimpse of how you first had your heart captured by the man sitting before you. The light glittered in your eyes, for Damiano and Damiano alone. "We're not going to fizzle out over one missed movie night."

"Yes, but I've missed many of our nights, whether we made plans for them or not," Damiano rebutted. Your lips pressed together in a flat line. There was a certain ounce of truth to that statement. Damiano pressed a kiss to the back of your hand without maintaining eye contact. "Cara mia, nights are for the lovers, and I seem to have forgotten that."

His warm breath tickled the back of your hand just before his pressed more kisses to the back of your hand, then wrist, then fingers.

Sensing the warming room, Romeo left your lap. He threw you a final glance, seeming like he was making sure you didn't need him in the room to which you slightly nodded at the tabby. Romeo turned on his paws and left the room - leaving two starry-eyed partners who were still most ardently in love.

Without another word, you joined your lips with Damiano's. It had been a long while since a kiss such as this one had occurred. In the place of the usual passing kisses, this one made the love shared prominent. This kiss felt as if your Damiano was once again yours and totally yours; not as if he ever wasn't, but this was a much needed reminder of that.

Holding your face in his large hands, Damiano deepened the kiss by turning his head ever-so slightly. His tongue slid into your mouth with a passionate fervour. There was no battle for dominance, but a mutual exploration of each other's mouths.

Damiano tenderly laid you down against the pillows on your side of the bed, though his lips parted from yours which was an unhappy fate. "Do you want to go further, Cara mia? I know this doesn't equal forgiveness."

"I've never wanted anything more, Dami, my sweetest love," you promised him. Damiano smiled at your admission. He began to place gentle, loving kisses to your neck. "Only if you want to."

"Oh, trust me." Damiano nipped your collarbone, resulting in a yelp from you. You could feel his smirk against your warming skin. "I want to."

Damiano's bites roamed the skin of your chest that your tank top allowed, before you sat up to take it off. Your fingers found Damiano's soft hair as he left sloppy, wet kissed all over your now exposed chest. A bitten back moan escaped your mouth just as his tongue began to circle the tender skin of your nipple, making your back arch into the man above you.

This was an admission of your pleasure, so Damiano's mouth fully encircled your nipple as his hand that once caressed your hip, now cupped your other breast. His warm palm massaged you firmly, having Damiano's name fall from your lips. It had been a while since he'd touched you like this, with such care and attention. Every fiber of Damiano's being was now focused on making his love for you known.

When his warm mouth left your breast to be exposed to the chill of the room, his teeth grazed your sensitive nipple, having goosebumps multiply on your skin at a sky high rate. His mouth then was turned to your other breast as his other hand twisted and pinched the exposed nipple.

Your hands began trying to get his deep red shirt off, to bring his warmth to you. But before Damiano would let you have what you wanted most, he bit the sweet spot beneath your boob, no doubt leaving a mark that would be apparent the next day.

As Damiano leaned up to pull his shirt over his head, you nearly melted underneath him. His hair was already beginning to become delightfully fucked up and the look in his eye was absolutely dark. The look he gave you before joining your lips once again was full of love, accompanied by lust and desire. Damiano slid off his tight leather trousers while he was at it, allowing you to palm him through his briefs.

The kiss shared was now hungry and feverish. The nails of the unoccupied hand scratched down his back, resulting Damiano bucking his hips into your hand. You removed it, which finally gave you the glorious friction that you so completely craved. Damiano no doubt sensed this as he grabbed the back of your thigh as he continued to grind right into the thin layer that separated you both.

"Damiano, please," you nearly cried. The chuckle that came from Damiano was low and only made your panties become even more wet.

"Please what?"

"You know what I mean." He was killing you. Once the words left your lips, Damiano ground his hips into you again. "Fuck me. Fuck me, please. Please."

"See, was that so hard, Amore?" Damiano purred as he lowered the waistband of your pyjama bottoms. He threw them somewhere in the room before pressing his index finger against your clit. You tried to pull him in for a kiss, but Damiano resisted. "Ah, ah, I want to see just how much I effect you."

"You're the fucking-wow-devil himself."

Damiano's laugh bordered upon an evil one. "You love me."

"I love you, I love you so fucking much," you moaned. Damiano smiled as he lowered your grey panties. Those were discarded somewhere along with your pyjama bottoms, but you couldn't give half a fuck because Damiano's perfectly manicured finger found it's way inside of you. You bucked against his hand, making Damiano laugh.

His finger drew circles inside of you while his thumb still played with your clit. God, Damiano was so much better than your own fingers. Without a warning, another finger was added, making a sort of porn-esque moan leave you. Damiano groaned at the sound as well as the sight in front of him. Even his dreams of you weren't as good as this.

It wasn't as if he could help himself from leaning down once again and attaching his mouth to your erect nipple. Your eyes crossed at three parts of your body were on fire with immense pleasure. The flames of rapture enveloped most of your body, even your soul.

"I'm-m-m gonna cum," you cried out. Damiano smiled against your breast as his fingers began going faster. "No, no, let me cum on your cock." Damiano looked up at you with a bit of surprise. You'd never said something like that without prompt.

The needy look that painted your face was all Damiano had to see before he complied. His briefs were off in the blink of an eye and he began to pump himself just to prepare. Your legs were spread wide as you could already feel yourself drip onto the sheets below which made Damiano groan with barred teeth.

He lined himself up with your entrance and gave you one final questioning look. You nodded adamantly before he pushed himself through your folds.

Truly, you could feel your soul ascend as you remembered just how big he was. You big your lip so hard you nearly broke skin while Damiano hissed an intake of breath. He came down to your lips to taste your minty mouth just as his hips began rocking into you, first at a slow pace, then began to get closer.

Damiano's hips snapped into yours quickly, and the sound of smacking skin filled the room, along with the scent of sex and sweat. The combination of both of your moans filled each other's mouths. The bedroom was incredibly hot but somehow you were in a cold sweat, save for where your body joined with Damiano's in sweet harmony.

"Fuck, Y/n, you're so fucking tight," Damiano huffed. You clenched around his cock, only making Damiano cry out with pleasure. Your nails drew down his back, clinging him closer and closer to you with every thrust against your g-spot. Tears brimmed your eyes as a knot formed in the lower part of your stomach.

"Soon, I'm cumming soon."

"Cum on my cock, Baby, just like you want."

You could tell his thrusts were getting sloppy because he was closing in on his release as well. But you couldn't help but cum first as the knot suddenly exploded within you.

Your walls spasmed against Damiano as your release washed over you. Your legs tingled and your toes went a bit numb. Damiano then hit in you a few more times before his own seed seeped into you. It was warm and you felt incredibly full as Damiano stayed within you for an extra few seconds, before falling next to you.

"I know you said this wouldn't equal forgiveness but I'm feeling very forgiving," you sighed. Damiano chuckled and looked over at you. Your skin glowed in orgasmic radiance and your hair was completely fucked out. Damiano's heart swelled at the sight and he couldn't help but kiss you again.

He cleaned you both up after, with a warm wash cloth, and got you new pyjamas. Romeo reentered the room once the sex smell was gone and you were in Damiano's arms once again. Your cat curled between both of you in the dead of night, like the beginnings of a family.

Damiano came home Wednesday afternoon with a massive bouquet that must have cost a pretty pence, a box of Belgian chocolate and a bag of cat treats. It seemed a movie night was in order.

[enhabot]

𝗹𝘂𝘃𝗯𝗼𝘁. ─  19 [ send toe pics. ]          𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕. 631 𝒕𝒘. mentions of alcohol consumption. ──────────

sweaty bodies with barely any space in between. blaring music. glittering lights. parties were never your thing, per se.

to be frank, you’d much rather spend the friday night cooped up in your dorm room watching some crime documentary that’ll most likely keep you up at night incredibly paranoid. yet, here you are, stranded in the midst of a frat house with a red, solo cup in hand.

you blame jake, of course.

where the fuck is jake, anyways? you push yourself through what seems like endless amounts of people in a daze, trying to navigate through the dim darkness. knowing your friends, they’re probably already batshit drunk. you groan at the thought of unwillingly being designated driver. jake sim, once i get my hands on you, you’re dead meat.

you continue to slide in between tipsy partygoers, until you safely reach a quiet corner. scrolling through your list of contacts, you dial heeseung's number. luckily, he picks up; unluckily though, you can practically smell the stench of vodka coming from his end of the line. "oh my god! it's yn! my favourite person. how are you, yn? did you know that i love you? no homo," he slurs. “heeseung,” you hiss into the speaker of your phone. “where are you guys?”

heeseung doesnt seem like he’s paying much attention, “huh? what’d you say, yn? you love me, too? gee, thanks!” you sigh and try again, “i asked where you guys are.”

“yn, i gotta go! someone just offered me one hundred dollars to show them my toes!” beep. heeseung has just hung up on you. lean against the cool wall, and rub your temples. this is going to be an excruciatingly long night. you take a long swig of your pink lemonade, vodka jungle juice.

"yn?"

alarmed at the sound of someone calling your name, you immediately straighten your slouch and your head darts up. "sunghoon?"

you breathe a long, steady sigh of relief at the familiar face. “hi! when’d you get here?” you ask. he shrugs, “about ten minutes ago? i think jungwon, jay and niki are in the back, though.” oh right, jungwon is suppose to be here. you mentally berate yourself for nearly forgetting the only reason why you decided to show up to the party.

you almost suggest to look for them, but proceed to remember how wasted heeseung is at the moment. "hee is pretty drunk right now, so i was planning on looking for him," you sigh. "oh, heeseung? i think he's upstairs, right now. i'm pretty sure that he's with jake--" sunghoon pauses for a moment. "though, jake is pretty wasted right now, too."

"seriously?" you groan and sunghoon chuckles. "here, i'll help you look for them," he offers. you swear that you can see a bright halo is floating atop sunghoon's head; he has to be an angel in disguise, or something.

"that would be great, thanks."

you proceed to walk towards the carpeted staircase, with sunghoon in tow. the two of you make your way up the second floor and continue your search for your friends. "last time i saw them, they were in here. they might've left though," sunghoon remarks, nodding towards a door that's been left slightly ajar. "let's go check it out."

you mentally compose yourself for the scene that you're about to witness. though, no amount of preparation could possibly prepare you for what you were about to see.

when you push open the wooden door, you aren't met with the sight of jake groveling on the floor nor heeseung passed out on the pool table. instead, you spot sunoo tightly grabbing jungwon by the collar.

ah, this is going to be a long night indeed.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆.    ever since the day you accidentally screwed over yang jungwon’s course selection during freshmen year, you were pretty sure the guy disliked (if not absolutely hated) you. after several failed, uncomfortable attempts to get jungwon to forgive you, you settled that it would be much easier if the feelings remained mutual. thus, you avoided him at all costs! you treated him as if he had something along the lines of a nasty case of the bubonic plague. surprisingly, it went pretty well… until you ended up seated next to yang jungwon in a cramped lecture hall. oh boy, did i mention that you also have a group project to do with him? ah yes, these next three weeks will be fun.

𝗮𝗻.               looking for moots pls dm/ask 🕺🕺 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁         @xoxojayd3n @cosmiclele @echelhoops @chimiesspeach @yjwooon @yangyanghq @lumixen @instahann @sleepy-paws @plshhhhhhh @ncityy04 @n1k1tty @wonionie @youreverydayzebra @reallysmolrenjun @strawberryyukhei @studioreader @clear-colour-hair @alo-ehas @hobistigma @notrosemary @sunysunoo @whoe-dis @jayparkfromenhypen @k1ttyl1x @mikaa7 @ivswonie @ghjasksdk @enhyseob @jungw8ns @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @jooreneeee @april1538 @creamkwan @tlnyjoong @yenart @shotasgf @uhhalexwashere @ilyaera @lyra8 @wonietree @shawkneecaps @raindropsandroses1107 @curryramyeon @rikibae @jaemsluvr @jakesahi @papiibuprofen @milkycloudtyg [ closed ] ────────── [ 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘃. | 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁. | 𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ] ───

[helion-ism]

What's with El/riels coming off on Eluciens, saying "Lucien didn't do anything and even tried to get Feyre back to her abuser!!"

First of all, Lucien did try, but everytime he would try, Tamlin would abuse him too. There was a scene where Lucien just LOOKED wrong at Tamlin and he lost it. How can you be able to help someone when you need the same help?

Then there are 2 reasons of why he tried to bring Feyre back:

1. Feyre's POV is not everyone's POV. Everyone outside the NC saw Rhys as the bad guy and he made himself look like the bad guy. Everyone knows what he had done UTM for Amarantha (the children from the winter court for example) . Lucien had to WATCH Feyre be sexually abused by Rhys and she fricking cried. Lucien knows what Rhys and his father have done to Tamlin and his family (he most likely doesn't know of the whole story since he probably heard it from Tamlin) Rhys also threatened him to hurt Lucien's mother so what do y'all expect? Rhys and the NC isn't the better option.

2. He did it to prevent Tamlin from making a deal with the Hybern King. If he brought Feyre back, Tamlin would've got no reason to make a deal with the King and everyone's fate, especially the people from Spring court wouldn't be in danger.

Still he apologized to her and made it up to her by finding Vassa.

Also, Feyre knows that Lucien got and still gets abused as well. You know what she did? She let him deal with Tamlin when Tamlin caught them hugging in that room. She just left and thought she did some badass sh*t when all she really did is let her friend get abused. She saw that blue eye and still is all fine with sending him to the spring court and letting him deal with Tamlin. Why is that okay? Why isn't she getting blamed as well?

Then, let's also not forget the fact that Elain let her little sister go into the woods and do the hunting to feed the family. She also let Nesta deal with her trauma alone, even Nesta was there every minute when Elain dealt with trauma. Elain wasn't and isn't a good sister. She apologized to Feyre at least and I forgive Elain because I do like her and there is no character in that series who's just perfect anyway (Well, except for Gwyn and Emerie for now). I'm sure that like Nesta, she had a reason and feels guilty.

They really should shut the hell up and read the books carefully. They just read it once, remember half of it and then spread misinformation. For example saying that Lucien hadn't done anything the day Elain and Nesta went into the cauldron and only yelled at the king to stop it all when it's not true. Only after Elain came out was Lucien able to break the King's magic that was leashed on him and immediatly run to her and put his cloak on her to shild her nudity from everyone who could see. Not to forget that everyone else, especially Azriel, didn't do anything as well. Azriel was bleeding on the ground and yet he threatened the King when the King talked to Mor. He hadn't said anything when he talked about Elain and let her go into the cauldron.

it’s literally so funny to me how they ignore that azriel doesn’t give a fuck about elain in that scene lol

it’s also funny to me how lucien was able to move and break those spells and everyone in that room just … moved on, but I suppose they had other problems

yeah Idk *their* problems tbh. I feel like we’re always moving in circles. the things they criticize lucien for have just been discussed so much and if they still choose to ignore that then that’s on them

they just see the guy as a threat to their ship and that won’t change. Idk if I’m dreading or looking forward to the day elucien is confirmed endgame. like I’ll be happy for myself and my mutuals but also the schadenfreude … yeah

[brainmaniaman]

PERHAPS YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE (ERWIN SMITH/READER)

TAGS: sugar daddy erwin, smut, brat tamer erwin, oral (male receiving), lazy fucking? , praise kink? very light degradation? idk i am just writing things that i feel like was included DESCRPTION: my brain absolutely rots for brat tamer sugar daddy erwin who finds a creative way to punish his baby for making a fool out of him i am going to cry idk why i just see erwin a brat tamer but one that goes very slow. idk this is just how i see him in my head don't @ me. idk how i feel about this but it definitely exists. WORD COUNT: 3,521

It was no secret that Erwin Smith like young women.

Specifically, young smart men and women - men and women with a good head on their shoulders and aspirations. It made conversating enjoyable, as he liked to hear about what made them tick, what brought them joy, what they wanted to do in their lives. Provided their aspirations were noble enough for his liking, he liked to fund their passions, lifestyles, and hobbies. After all, his pockets were deep and no mister, misses, or family of his own and things got boring - so since he didn't have kids or a life partner to pour into, he liked to pour into his fleeting partners.

He also liked to see them unravel before him, tongue hanging out of the side of their mouths, toes curling against the mattress, and eyes rolling into the back of their head as he fucked the mercilessly stupid - reducing them to nothing but a babbling mess of incoherent thoughts and words, drunk on the feeling of his massive cock sliding in and out of them.

But Erwin Smith, a gentleman, would never admit to that.

Sprawled out on his back, Erwin rested his right hand behind his head, looking up at you as you straddled his waist, his left hand idly playing with the small, silver, ring dangling from the front of the black choker adorning your neck.

A pout twisted on your lips as he pushed the ring back and forth, eyes focusing on your throat instead of you.

Your hands pawed at his waist before moving to his belt buckle, beginning to slide it through.

"Ah -" Erwin moved his right arm out from behind his head, resting his large hand over yours - keeping you from undoing his belt. "What do you think you're doing?"

Your lips curled downwards into a scowl.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Something you shouldn't."

"And why . . ." You tapped your free hand, the one that wasn't trapped under his own, on his - impatiently. "Is that?"

"Do you recall the events that unfolded tonight?"

"Hm . . ." You tapped your index finger against your chin. "No. Not particularly."

Had this been anyone else, their temper would have been lost. Hell, your attitude was strong enough to crack most people who tried to reign it under control. Erwin ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his eyebrows furrowed together. If anything, Erwin liked the challenge. If there was anything Erwin was known for, it was his seemingly infinite patience.

"You can't recall?"

"No."

"Would you like to recall before I give you a reason to recall?"

You squirmed with excitement. Threats excited you - threats with others usually ended in spankings, and you liked those.

"No - I don't think so."

Erwin hooked his right finger into the silver ringlet dangling at your neck, giving it a slight tug forward - bringing your head down so that your lips ghosted his own.

"Very well then." Erwin breathed against your lips, "Take of your stockings."

Excitedly, you began to roll off your black stockings - those $300 dollar pair he had bought you on a whim, because you had pointed at them and told him you thought they looked nice.

You shifted on him patiently, dropping your weight down onto his cock, squirming with anticipation - waiting for him to flip you onto your stomach, press your head into the pillows, and strike his hand against your ass.

That time never came.

In fact, he was starring intently into your own eyes - and now you weren't squirming with anticipation but, rather, nervousness.

"Ride me."

"What -"

"You heard me."

"You can't be serious -"

"I am."

"Suddenly, I remember what I did -" You were starting to, essentially, plead with him, "We were at the party and -"

Erwin reached up, pressing his finger to your lips.

"You can finish the story when my cock is inside of you."

You sucked in your lower lip, tears biting the corner of your eyes.

He removed his large hand from your own.

"Go on - take my belt off . . . since you were previously so eager to take it off."

Your face was hot with humiliation and frustration as your fingers fumbled with his belt, starting to pull it through its loops.

"Maybe I shouldn't have told you to get your own drink when you asked me to grab the punch . . ."

"Mmm . . ." Erwin responded, lifting his hips slightly as you slid the belt off of his hips. "Perhaps you shouldn't have. It doesn't change the prognosis of your situation, though. Continue with what you were doing." Erwin now stretched both of his arms back, his abs rippling and flexing underneath his shirt as he cradled his hands underneath his head, eyes still trained on you.

Your fingers shook a bit as you began to unbutton his pants, pushing his boxers down, pulling his cock out. It was big, long, and girthy - the holy trifecta, as you called it - and was currently semi-hard. You ran your tongue over your top row of teeth. You couldn't help but imagine how great it would feel for his big hands to press your head down into the mattress and fill you up from behind before fucking you into the bed.

"Be a dear and help me out, use your mouth."

Your heart was pounding in your chest.

"I shouldn't have embarrassed you in front of your friends -"

"Mmm . . ." Erwin hummed again, "Perhaps you shouldn't have. Continue on."

"And if I don't?"

He raised an eyebrow at you, reaching his hand out and pressing the palm of his hand against the hot side of your face.

"You know me, I'm not going to force you to do anything you're not willing to do."

"Alright, seems like we have a mutual understanding -" You leaned him into his warm hand, body tensing at the feeling of his touch.

"- but do you think I'll just forget about tonight? At some point, you'll have to face the music. Do you think I'll just forget by tomorrow and then by the next day, roll you over and fuck you? You should know me better by now."

You crinkled your nose.

Running your tongue over your bottom lip, you hesitantly leaned your head down. Truthfully, this isn't how you expected the night to end. You had hoped in your playfulness - in openly defying him and saying no in front of his friends - he'd lose his temper at home and bring out the crop whip.

"Are you sure you don't want to just use the crop whip and call it even?"

Erwin's arms now stretched behind his head again, he tilted his head down. The sight of your hand gripped around the base of his cock, looking up at him with those doe eyes - it made him want to roll you onto your stomach, press your cheek to the headboard, and thrust into you mercilessly.

But this wasn't about seeking his own pleasure - it was about teaching you a lesson - and patience was key.

"Whips are for good girls and boys." Erwin drawled lazily, "Do you think you've been good?"

You hummed in response. He really wasn't going to let up, was he?

"And if I comply, what do I get?" You puffed out your cheeks.

"You think making amends should end in a reward?"

"I don't see why not."

"We'll see."

We'll see.

That maybe was enough to convince you it might be worth your time to comply. You lowered your head, running your tongue around his tip. You could feel his legs tense at the feeling. You used his tongue to continue to tease around the tip of his cock.

Two could play at this game.

You had planned on continuing to do this until you felt Erwin's hand come against the back of your head. It wasn't heavy, it didn't push down on your head, but simply rested there.

"Go on."

If you were going to lower your head, he wanted you to do it out of your own volition.

He wanted the satisfaction of your compliance.

There was a moment of hesitation as you continued to tease the tip of his cock - which was big. You hadn't taken him in your mouth before - usually, by now, he would bury himself to you to his hilt and thrust mercilessly. You hadn't had him in your mouth before. Hell, you weren't sure if it was capable. Even so, you widened your mouth - slowly taking him into your mouth - your tongue sliding along the length of his big cock, which stretched your mouth beyond what was normal. He kept his hand on the back of your head, fingers curling into the strands of your hair.

Slowly, you began to slide your bob your head up and down on his cock. Pride swelled in you as he let out a breathy sigh, his abdomen flexing slightly. Positioned between his legs, you gripped at his thighs - fingernails digging into the large muscles of his thighs. Erwin's thighs clenched as your sides as you continued to bob your head up and down his cock slowly - your hands gripping at the base of his cock to steady yourself. You had only managed to make it half of the way down before you could feel your eyes water, close to triggering your gag reflex. Your neck began to flex upwards but his hand became heavy on the back of your head, pushing your head back down slowly.

"Your little mouth looks so pretty around my dick-" Erwin breathed out, "Much better than it looks when you're spewing defiant vulgarities against me."

You grew wet at the comment, drenching you panties. You fidgeted, rubbing your thighs together with arousal as his fingers curled tightly in the strands.

Pink lipstick smudged at his dick as he pulled your head upwards, starting to guide you up and down the length of his cock.

"Don't you think?"

Saliva dripped from the edges of your lips as your mouth continued to slide up and down his dick, his breath becoming shaking and unstable - only driving you to perform better. Perhaps if you had him like putty your hands, he'd be more willing to forgive and forget.

"So pretty -" Erwin praised, his sharp blue eyes looking lazily down at you, clearly pleased with the way you struggled to take the entirety of his cock between your lips, the way saliva dripped from the edges of your lips, and the muffled mmfs and hhns you gagged out - rumbling against his skin. "Pretty little things like you shouldn't waste your time spewing such hateful and bratty things. Don't you agree?"

"Hmmm" You hummed against his cock, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His breath was becoming more erratic as he continued to guide your head up and down the length of his cock, though maintained eye contact with you.

"- wanna look into your eyes when I cum in your mouth" Erwin choked out, his chest rising and falling more rapidly, "- and see it spill over that smart mouth of yours"

Your pussy now throbbing and aching as his tip pressed the back of your throat, coming dangerously close to triggering your gag reflex.

He didn't move his hips to aide you, simply guided your head.

Despite his light moans and groans, he remains miraculously quiet. Unlike you, he's never been quite loud. There's a moment as your lips and tongue drag up from the base of his cock, dragging to his tip, and he for a moment he thinks he may just see stars as he unloads into your mouth. If you think about pulling back, you can't, as his hand holds you in place even as cum starts to drip from the corners of your mouth, spilling and dribbling onto your chin.

His fingers uncurl from your hair and drop to move strands of hair from your eyes before wiping at the corner of your mouth - though the movement of his thumb doesn't do anything to clean you up in the slightest. It's more of gentle gesture than anything else.

"I've done my part -" You go to sputter out, but he only laughs and shakes his head.

Erwin's hand slips between your legs, gently grabbing at your pussy with his big hand. "You're already wet - and from just that? Dirty little thing. You want my cock in you, right?"

"Yes -"

The hand between your thighs presses up against your pussy and his left hand grips at your hips, lifting you to your knees so that you're properly straddling him again. He's working of your lacy panties now, tossing them to the side.

"Go ahead -" He motions to himself, "Fill yourself."

You furrow your eyebrows, expression clearly displeased. You feel more and more control slipping away from you and suddenly, you feel increasingly more self-conscious. By now, anyone else would have simply had their way with you - the way you liked it. But this man was making you work for it - and honestly, it was punishment enough.

"I think I've learned my lesson by now -" You sputter out, not too keen on doing the rest of the work.

"Maybe you have." Erwin responds lazily, "But if I were to end the punishment here, you wouldn't learn your lesson - would you? But surely, if you want - we can stop here." He pressed his hand in between your thighs, his fingers rubbing lazily at your slit before running around your clit. Your legs were shaking as you let out small whines and moans. "Do you want to end here?"

"N-No!" You sputter out as his fingers continue to slide slickly up and down your pussy. Erwin's fingers teased the entrance of your cunt, pressing in slightly as his thumb pressed itself into your clit - but didn't go much further.

"Then I suggest -" Erwin arched his back up, bringing his lips to ghost over yours as his free hand wiped some of the frustrated tears dripping at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down the sides of your cheeks, "- you put in the work to show me just how sorry you are . . . and maybe I'll consider rewarding you for your effort."

He really wasn't going to relent.

You placed your hands on his fully erect cock again, lining the tip of his dick up against your entrance. Both of his hands rested against the side of your face reassuringly, admiring how your chin glistened with his cum.

"Go on." He encouraged you.

Slowly, you lowered yourself down onto his cock - carefully taking it agonizingly slow as his dick stretched you out uncomfortably; it was clearly taking you a while to adjust. For the moment, he let you take your sweet time - besides, the punishment itself wasn't about not seeking pleasure. It was about making you put in the work to seek out your own pleasure. Perhaps after this, you'd be less likely to make a fool out of him in front of his friends.

Your legs shifted as you sat still, practically warming his cock as you sat there.

"Well?" He asked patiently, "Work for it."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Hesitantly, you raised yourself up a bit - sliding yourself upwards. At the feeling of your tight cunt sliding against his big cock, he couldn't help but groan. Slowly, you lowered yourself down again. For a second, you waited - hoping that if you took it slow and steady, he'd get impatient, grab you by the hips, and fuck you himself.

"You're smart enough to know I'm not stupid," Erwin said, tapping your temple with his index finger, "I know the game you're playing. Keep going."

You pouted but he simply drug his thumb over your lip, puling it down before hooking his thumb into your mouth - pressing the pad of his thumb into your gums.

You continued to slide slowly up and down against his cock, groaning as his tip pressed into that sweet spot he knew how to reach every time. However, given that you were tasked with handling it yourself - it was much different.

Your body ached for him to grab at you - your breasts, your ass, your thighs - something. But instead, Erwin moved his hands from your mouth and linked his fingers behind his head, propping his head up so he could see your little mouth contort into different expressions as you bounced up and down on his dick, clearly humiliated by the fact that you were even having to put in this much work to begin with.

"Very good." He cooed as you placed the palms of your hands on his clothed chest, working at the buttons of his shirt. "Ah - no." Erwin corrected you, grabbing your hands and removing them from his shirt. "I don't think you deserve it. Unbutton your own shirt."

Your ears grew hot as you continued to bounce up and down on his cock, his tip hitting your sweet spot over and over again. Your eyes were watering and legs were shaking - clearly already tired, as this was obviously something you didn't ever do.

Your shaky fingers unbuttoned the front of your shirt as you continued to bounce on his cock, tight black skirt clinging to your thighs as he looked lazily up at you, once more moving his hands behind his head.

"Take it off."

You slid the shirt off your shoulders, letting it drop at the edge of the bed.

"Now your bra, dear."

Still bouncing, this time more relentlessly, you twisted your arms behind your back - struggling to unclasp your bra but, after a few long seconds of struggling, freed your breasts from its restraints.

"Touch me -" You breathed out as you dropped your bra at the end of the bed with your shirt, "P-Please" You pleaded.

"Hmm . . ." Erwin looked pensive. "No. I don't think you're sorry enough yet." His own breath was becoming labored again, his abdomen flexing and legs twitching as pleasure began to pool in him. The sight of you helplessly bouncing up and down on him, your ass pressing against his pelvis, breasts bouncing up and down as you struggled to keep up the pace that was most pleasurable for you, was absolutely magnificent. "Since you want to touch yourself so bad, why don't you do it yourself? Go ahead, pinch your nipples."

Hesitantly, you gripped at your right breast, letting your thumb roll over your nipple gently and couldn't help but moan as you pinched and pulled at it - desperately trying to receive pleasure from yourself as you continued to rock your hips back and forth - sweat rolling down the back of your neck as you bring your other hand to fondle at your left breast, gripping and squishing at the skin - closing your eyes and pretending it was him playing with your nipples.

Your bouncing became more desperate, frantic even, and a pool of pleasure was beginning to build at your abdomen.

"H-Help . . ." You sputtered out, but Erwin didn't seem to be particularly interested in helping you out, his own breath ragged and shaking. More than anything, he wanted to grab your hips and snap his upwards into yours - but reminded himself that it wasn't about his pleasure but, instead, teaching you a lesson.

"You seem to -" Erwin groaned a bit, "You seem to -" He repeated himself, "Be handling it just fine -"

You bounced more desperately against his cock, his tip smashing easily into your sweet spot as you slid up and down against him with ease, clearly exhausted but still desperate to get something out of this entire punishment.

Before you knew it, the tension in the pit of your stomach had broke and you were gushing all over his dick and your own thighs, your body tensing and shaking as you orgasmed.

Erwin himself hadn't orgasmed - though he came close. In truth, the only times he could orgasm was when he took control himself. But his pleasure hadn't come from the sex itself, but instead watching you desperately and tiredly fuck yourself stupid on his cock, rocking back and forth pathetically as you tried to work for some kind of release.

Besides, bad little playthings that misbehaved didn't deserve to have their pussy dripping with his cum - no matter how desperately they wanted to.

Very gently, he raised you off his cock and helped you lay down beside him.

Slowly, he zipped himself up and leaned himself over on his arms, pressing a very gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I think you've redeemed yourself."

He had half a mind to roll you over onto your stomach and fuck you to sleep - but punishments were punishments for a reason.

Instead, he stood up and grabbed your clothes from the end of the bed, putting them in the hamper before changing into his own pajamas and crawling back under the sheets himself.

Erwin leaned over, placing one more gentle kiss to your cheek before turning over to turn off the lamp at his bedside.

"If you decide to behave, then tomorrow will be a better day."

With that blunt, yet cheeky, comment - he turned the silver finial on the lamp, shutting off the light with a gentle click.

[kisekinodrabbles]

Can we get detective Aomine, who gets assigned a female partner but from the start they're always at each other's throats. During an undercover case, reader has to be super flirty and Aomine gets all jealous and mutual confessions ensues. Maybe some sexy times at the end? :') Sorry if this is too specific, feel free to come up with your own interpretation! I'm such a huge fan of your work Sam and I'm so excited that you're opening your askbox even just for a little while!

ngl idk what im doing here but this is the last request in my inbox so i wanted to finish it haha pls enjoy (not proofread so excuse mistakes) - also my first time writing smut in like years so forgive me!!

Sometimes, Aomine thinks that if he isn’t a law and order professional, he thinks he might actually commit murder and hide your body away in some undisclosed, obscure location. Most of the time, you feel the same way about him. 

The two work in different divisions—Aomine in homicide and you in robbery. The two divisions have always been highly competitive especially given how much overlap you both encounter. Things can get territorial, but their teams are used to your snide remarks and Aomine’s verbal assault. It’s just the way the world works. 

After all, the two of you were in the same graduating class. You, a valedictorian by books. Aomine, top of the class by combat. It’s natural that the two of you are so competitive with your conflicting personalities.

The two of you may have also fucked at some point. 

–

“I’m not fucking working with her, are you kidding me?” Aomine spits out at his boss. Any other person would’ve been kicked out of the room or probably fired, but Aomine is the best detective in his division so Akashi would never do such a thing. For now. Aomine’s been wearing his patience thin. 

The red-haired man sighs, folding his hands together atop his desk. “Aomine, I understand you both have had your immaturity in the past. This, however, isn’t the time for such trivial matters. There’s a double homicide downtown during a robbery. She’s the lead for the case on the robbery end because they’ve been tracking a series of these.” Aomine opens his mouth to argue again. “No more buts. She’s already down there getting witness statements. Unless you want to be behind again, I suggest you get in your car and start driving.” 

He grits his teeth. Breathe. Don’t strangle your boss, he’ll probably kill you first. “I’ll take Wakamatsu.”

By the time he arrives on the scene, a crowd has gathered behind the police line, snapping pictures in the hopes of getting something Twitter worthy. He growls past all of them and ducks underneath the tape. “Where’s the officer that called it in?”

“Inside talking to the detective.”

“I’m the detective,” he snaps right back, knowing full well you’re already three steps ahead of him. And you definitely won’t let him forget that.

He marches past the thick front doors, Wakamatsu in tow. From a distance, he spots you talking to another officer. When he finally approaches you, he realizes that you’re in a skin tight dress covered by an oversized police jacket.

Your name slips past his lips. “Did we interrupt a hot date?” He smirks.

You whirl around, knowing full well the irritating voice that grates on your nerves. Aomine Daiki. “Unlike you, I have actual friends and actual plans on a Friday night. Did you decide to give your wrist a break for the night?” 

Aomine bites back, “Well, it’s not getting much rest either when I had my fingers knuckle deep in something tight and wet tonight.” Complete lie but he’s not about to lose this battle. “Not sure you know how that feels though.”

“If you’re talking about the pudding in your fridge, you might want to ease up on that. Doesn’t look like it’s doing you any favors,” you smile right back at him, knowing full well you’ve won this argument.

Aomine growls low under his breath, jabbing Wakamatsu hard with his elbow when he hears the snort escape him. “Brief me on the situation,” he tells the police officer.

“Well, uh, I already told this detective here—”

“I’m the other detective in charge for homicide. Now, you better fucking brief me before I tell your captain.”

The guy glances at you warily and you just laugh. “Told you he hasn’t gotten any in a long time. Come on, sugar, I’ll brief you on the way down to the vault.” You curl your finger in a gesture to get him to follow you and he sucks up his pride for the first time and do as he’s told. If he solves this case, he still gets the credit and you can go back to that sewer where you came from.

There are two bodies at the vault and forensics are already working to collect evidence when they arrive. “Your area of expertise, double homicide. Both are surprisingly the robbers. Four of them broke in, only two were seen exiting with money bags. No other casualties.”

“Fucking weird,” Aomine mutters. It’s not new for robberies to go wrong, but for two of them to die with no civilian casualty? That’s fucking weird.  

“Interesting, isn’t it?” You grin, seeming way too pleased considering there are two dead people in front them. “The ammo is the same as the previous bank robberies in the area. We’re going to assume they’re linked to the Red Dragon clan.”

“Fuck,” he groans, “I fucking hate those guys. Bitches to deal with. Hard to infiltrate.”

You flick your hair over your shoulder, grinning at him. He can’t help but draw his gaze to your neck, a very attractive neck. Now that he notices how tight that dress is, he can’t help but admit that it has been a while since he’s gotten any action. The curves of your breast defined so clearly by the fabric that stretches across the mounds, the flow of your hips, every dip and rise. Your exposed legs further emphasized by your heels. God fucking damn. He feels his pants tighten as he licks his teeth. Get it together, Aomine. 

Of course, the clothes do nothing to remove the memory of your nude body from his mind. He’s seen all parts of you some time ago. A drunken mistake that ended in a brief, but extremely satisfying night of passion. Your tight pussy wrapped around his cock, your nails digging into his biceps. He can still picture the sheen layer of sweat on your skin as he rams into you, your broken moans falling from your lips. 

“Well, lucky for you,” you start again, pulling him out of the hazy cloud of lust. “I already have someone on the inside. They’ve set up a meeting for me tomorrow night meet with the head’s son. I’ll try to get some information done.” 

“Lucky for you, I’m free tomorrow to be your backup. You’re welcome,” Aomine smiles, “Don’t fuck this up. I don’t feel like cleaning up after your ass.”

“I should say that about you, asshole.”

–

Aomine is sat in a dingy van just across the street from the bar you’re having your meeting. You’ve hidden your mic in the perfect spot, a location which you do not disclose to Aomine. However, he has a feeling it’s somewhere promiscuous that he wants to be aware of. They can see the restaurant clearly, their brat hacker Sakurai having plugged into the restaurant’s security cameras. 

“Shut the fuck up, Aomine. I can hear you munching on your stupid sour cream and onion chips.” You mutter into your mic before the guy arrives. You sip your wine and take a deep breath. This isn’t the first time you’ve gone undercover but it is the first time to have Aomine behind you while you do so. 

The detective looks down at the can in his hands. Sour cream and onion. How did you know? He sets it aside, bringing the mic up to his lips. “Maybe you should do your job better and focus on your meeting instead of listening to me. Why are you so obsessed with me, hm?” 

However, a man’s voice on the other side of the headphones has him straightening. “Good evening, I didn’t expect to be meeting a lovely lady like you tonight,” the sleaze says and Aomine can just imagine him kissing your hand. “When Tanaka said I’d be meeting with the right hand of White Claw, I didn’t expect it to be a woman.”

“Well, we are moving up in life, Mr. Ito.”

“Your good looks are certainly quite persuasive. I’m sure there are ways you can convince me to strike a deal.”

Fucking. Sleaze.

“Oh,” you laugh lightly, “what a flatterer. You’re not so bad yourself. I can imagine people fall at their feet for you.”

“Well, I am quite knowledgeable in more ways than one. Perhaps I can show you tonight after dinner.”

The two banter back and forth, trading flirty comments that puts Aomine on edge. You’re supposed to be doing your job and he knows that. He knows this is all an act but you’re a damn good actress. 

“Aomine, where are you going?” Wakamatsu’s concerned voice carries through the speaker.

You freeze. This fucker better not screw this whole operation up. “Well,” you say, “this has been a lovely dinner. I’m sure we both can come to an agreement without doing anything reckless.” 

The double meaning, a sentence meant for the man across from you and the man listening to you rings clear. Aomine growls, sitting back down petulantly in his seat. He was about to rage in there and start a war, but holds himself back. Be professional, Aomine. Job first, dick needs later. 

“The same to you. It’s been a pleasure meeting you,” the man smiles. “Are you sure you won’t join me for the night?”

Aomine snarls low into his mic. Wakamatsu shoots him a weird look. You let out a little giggle and he knows it’s meant for him. “No, thank you, Mr. Ito. I’m afraid I have other commitments to tend to.” 

When he knows it’s safe, he storms into the restaurant where you still sit, sipping your drink. Sliding into the seat across from you, he rolls his eyes. “Enjoy yourself?” 

He didn’t see when you were set up with the mic earlier so he also hadn’t seen what you were wearing. He’s almost grateful because he knows he might’ve lost it if he did. Tight ass dress, deep neckline that shows ample cleavage (he’s always a sucker for this), sultry eyes, red lips. God, all his favorite things packaged into one. 

Your lips quirk up. “The breadsticks here are quite nice.”

“Fucking hilarious. Let’s go.”

“Why the hurry?”

“Unless you want Wakamatsu to hear me fuck you, you better dump that mic and get your ass up.”

You lean back, narrowing your eyes at him. “I’m not sure I like your tone.”

“Trust me, you don’t have to like my tone to enjoy what I’m going to do to you.”

Licking your lips, you consider your options as you bring the wine back to your lips. “Fine,” you mutter, unclipping the mic from the strap of your dress. Aomine moves faster though, snatching it from your hands and dumping it into the wine. Before you can protest, he already has a hand wrapped around yours, tugging you up from your seat and into the back room. 

You’re stumbling in his manic rush, heels barely keeping up with your movements. “Aomine!” You chide as he pushes all the way to the employee break room. The space is fortunately empty and Aomine locks it to make sure it stays that way. “Can you please stop?! You’re such a caveman, I—”

He’s quick to shut you up, swallowing your words with his lips as they slot over yours. He doesn’t waste time, shrugging off his leather jacket as he licks your bottom lip for permission. You gasp a complaint, but he takes advantage of the situation to stick his tongue in, pressing it up against yours. 

All your worries fall away into a moan as he separates from you only to gasp for breath and pull his t-shirt over his head. With nimble fingers, he’s unzipping the back of your dress and yanking it down, leaving your top half exposed. Shivering, you’re about to voice your disapproval but your brain seems to stop functioning the second your gaze lands on his tanned body.

Aomine’s always been attractive. No one can deny. There’s a reason why he’s simultaneously the precinct’s most eligible bachelorette and most insufferable jackass. His confidence matches his skills. His looks live up to his brags. Hard lines and shadows are painted on him like a masterpiece in a museum. His broad shoulders make him look even bigger with his height. His jeans that hang just low enough to be tantalizing with the hint of a v that leads to the space between his legs. 

Your mouth dries up at the sight and Aomine smirks knowingly. You’ve fallen into his bed before, he can make it happen again. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Fifth grade humor doesn’t become you, Aomine.” You scowl as he backs you up against the table in the middle of the room. He effortlessly grabs you by the ass to lift you up and onto the surface, the metal cool against your exposed thighs. 

“Did you dress up for me, doll? Knowing full well that this was going to happen,” he grins devilishly, bringing his hands up to shamelessly cup your breasts. 

It’s not as if you’re embarrassed for being so bare before him. You’re proud of your body and he damn well knows that. You let him fondle you through your bra for a little bit. “No, you animal. I dress for the job.”

“You tell me you wear this flimsy thing—” he teases the light coverage of your lingerie. The lace is sheer and barely covers your nipples, the material holding onto your breasts for dear life. “—for the job?”

“I do my job right, asshole,” you spat right back. “So are you just going to stand there or are you going to fuck me?”

A wide grin stretches across his face. The heat in his eyes carry to his hands as he works to unclasp your bra and let it fall to the ground. Aomine doesn’t waste time as you lean back on your palms, granting him full access to fondle and suckle on your tits. His tongue swirls around the sensitive nubs that have grown stiff in the contrast between the cold air and his warm breath. His teeth graze the sensitive skin hard enough to have you groaning in pleasure. His lips close in around them and suck. He uses his hand to tease and tug your other breast, pinching it to elicit that delicious whimper out of you. Aomine alternates between the two, making sure you stay warm. 

Meanwhile, you let your hand fall to the bulge between his legs. He lets out a small grunt at the initial touch but seems to respond favorably to the way you stroke the tent, nudging his hips forward for more friction. “Is that a gun in your pants or are you just excited to see me?”

“You’re so fucking ridiculous,” Aomine mutters, both humored and unamused by your comment. 

“Fuck,” you let slip as your fingers struggle to unbutton his jeans. “Your fucking pants. Don’t you live in sweats? You choose today of all days to wear your stupid tight jeans?”

Aomine chuckles, “Patience, baby. You know you like my ass in these.”

You do, but you’re not about to admit that. He quickly works off his pants, letting them drop to his ankles as he moves towards you again. While he continues to stimulate your tits, your hand begins groping his cock which is rock hard and peeking from the top of his boxers.

“God, I miss having this inside me,” you whine, pulling the flimsy fabric off and letting it pool on top of his jeans. “Condom?”

“You don’t want me raw? You know you want to feel all of my cock,” he grins. You throw him a glare and he just chuckles as he reaches for his wallet on the floor, pulling out a packet and tossing it onto the table. “But first,” he pauses, letting his hands slide down to cup your pussy, which is admittedly already drenched at that point. 

He hisses when he feels your juices drip and coat his fingers. “You’re so fucking wet, goddamn. How long have you been waiting for this?”

“When that robbery happened, I was about to get laid for the first time in months. So fucking sue me,” you snarl at him. 

“Well, I am here to please,” he wets his lips. He slips one finger in, sliding in all too easily. So he adds another finger and feels your walls pulse around him. He begins pulling it out before shoving it back in, repeating the measure to stroke your walls. He curls his fingers inside as he watches your face closely.

Your expression morphs from irritation to blinding pleasure in an instant. Your eyes slide shut, your lips part to exhale shaky breaths. Aomine seems to know exactly how to angle and twist his fingers to induce a heart attack. The sounds falling from your mouth are ephemeral, Aomine wishes he can film this moment so he can replay it over and over again. 

He pumps his fingers into you and ducks his head to take your nipple into his mouth again, tongue circling the tip. “God, you taste so fucking good. I forgot how wet you can get. Don’t even need lube to slide into you, huh? You’re already dripping for me.” 

“Asshole,” you murmur weakly, clearly in no place to retort. 

“Remember the first time I fucked you? God, you were so easy,” he grins, “you were so wet, so turned on already. Remember when I stuck my tongue in your pussy? Licking up your juices. You tasted so sweet.” 

Your breath stutters in your chest, hitching in your throat. “Fuck you, let’s not forget how quickly you came when I sucked you off.”

“I mean, the sight of you on your knees is enough to get anyone off, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck me,” you groan. Any rational thought has fizzled from your brain. The feeling of his fingers inside you is enough to consume you whole, overwhelming you in waves of rapture. 

“What was that?”

“Dickwad.”

He chuckles darkly, licking his lips again. “Beg me.”

“I’m not going to—”

Aomine yanks his fingers out, looking down at you, taunting you. He waits as you internally struggle with your moral convictions. Are you willing to give up your pride for one night just to get fucked out of your mind?

Easy.

Yes.

“Please,” you huff, “please fuck me.” 

“Please fuck me who?”

Your eyes find the ceiling, wondering what in the hell you did in your lifetime to have met the devil that is Aomine. Biting your lip, you lean closer to whisper, “Please fuck me, Da-i-ki.” 

The man is a sucker for you calling him by his first name. And to get what you want, you’re willing to play into his hands. Aomine lets out a low growl before ripping open the condom packet and rolling the thin rubber along his length. Your pussy squeezes at the sight. Just imagining what it’s like to have that thickness inside of you, fucking you full, has you on edge. 

He doesn’t waste a single second, pulling you forward and slowly positioning himself in front of you. He holds onto his cock, letting the tip trace your pussy lips, circling it and letting your juices drip onto his cock. Stroking the wetness along his dick, he uses it as a lubricant before he slides himself inside you.

When he’s buried to the hilt, Aomine leans forward and lets his forehead rest on your shoulder. Your pussy is so fucking tight. It’s squeezing and throbbing around him with the engulfing heat. He feels as if he’s going to explode right then. 

“Fuck, you really haven’t been screwed in a while,” Aomine rasps. 

“Told you.”

Aomine starts off slow, pulling out and pushing back in. With how thin the condom is, he can feel every ridge, every bump in your heat rub up against his cock. The sensations is enough to have his thighs quivering, but he’s not one to back down. He begins to pick up the pace, thrusting deep inside of you repeatedly. HIs mouth latches onto your neck, tongue lapping and teeth nipping to paint purple blooms upon your skin. 

His movements are building a bubbling pressure in the pit of your stomach. You feel your heart tightening with every move, your insides squeezing. The absolute pleasure that crashes over you has you breathless, your hands finding purchase on his arms. 

He mutters filthy words in your ear, one of his hands reaching up to tangle in your hair. He yanks back lightly, just enough to have you moaning. You like it rough, he’s well aware of that. He pounds into you relentlessly, hands keeping you in place as whimpers tumble from your mouth. 

“Fuck, right there, oh god,” you gasp, “fuck me harder. God, your dick feels so good. Filling me up so full with your thick cock.” 

“Keep talking like that and I’ll be tempted to come in you, baby,” Aomine grazes his teeth along your ear, hot breath kissing your skin. “God, I want to just fucking cream inside you.” 

“Better watch yourself, Daiki.”

Aomine grins lasciviously, sweat beginning to bead his forehead as he attempts to keep himself in check. He feels you tighten your pussy, walls closing in around him. “Bitch,” he growls. You know what you’re doing but he’s not about to let you gain dominance of the situation.

So his hands dig deeper into your hips as he fucks you harder and deeper, his cock pulsating inside of you on the brink of his self-control. “I’m about to come,” he says with eyes squeezed shut. If he sees your tits bouncing as he fucks you again, he might actually combust in that second. 

“Me too,” you panted, fingers scraping down his arms. 

With a few more pumps, Aomine spills into the rubber with a grunt. He feels you convulse around him, your entire body trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm. He can feel his come continue to leak from his cock. God, he hasn’t come this hard in a fucking long time. 

His heart is thundering in his chest from the impact of his climax. He slumped forward, leaning against you for support—also partially to feel your tits press up against his chest. “Fuck,” he huffs.

“That was good,” you admit to yourself, still breathing heavily as you begin fixing your hair. “We should do that again sometime.”

Aomine just laughs, huffing against your skin. “You’re the fucking she-devil.”

“Says the guy who’s fucking me in the back room in the middle of an undercover operation.”

“Dick first, job second.”

–

Wakamatsu looks at him when he walks into the precinct that morning. “You do realize the captain is going to kill you for fucking up that expensive mic, right?”

Fuck.

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Lost Years

Summary - After spending five years in LA, Dean comes back to Lawrence and meets up with his bestfriend or rather his then bestfriend. Y/N isn't exactly happy on seeing Dean either. Will he be able to fix his strained relationship with her?

Pairing - Rockstar!Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warning - Cheesy fluff, angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of divorce, parents separation, drinking, bad dates, kissing, unprotected sex 18+ (wrap it before you tap it), p in v smut, oral sex (fem receiving), sex in the Impala.

WC - 5.3k+ (....oops)

Square filled - Angst ( @girl-next-door-writes ) and “Why the fuck would you laugh at that?” ( @anyfandomgoesbingo )

A/N - This is my submission to @downanddirtydean's 500 followers writing challenge (Congratulations again, Lyd). Prompt is in bold.

This is an AU. Flashbacks are in Italics.

Beta'd by @miss-nerd95 (Thank you so much, hon) and thank you to @whatareyousearchingfordean for giving this a read and leaving some valuable comments❤️

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Fuckin’ brilliant!” A weary exclamation left the woman's mouth as she read the text displayed on the device's screen in her hand.

There was a very significant reason why she didn't believe in blind dates, but Jo had been stubborn and insistent. And with Valentine's Day approaching, Y/N didn't want to spend the day in her pjs, crying over The Notebook again. So she had agreed to give a chance to Jo’s friend, or to be more precise, her friend's cousin. His name was Gabriel, and from what she had heard from her mutual friend circle, he seemed to be a decent guy.

But now all she wanted was to go back in time and change her decision to give into Jo’s request, because looking at the empty chair in front of her, she regretted allowing her friend to even try to interfere in her love life.

She signaled the waiter to bring over her check after downing the entire glass of wine. The restaurant was quite busy tonight. It was packed with people on this fine Saturday evening - from lovestruck couples to families with crying kids, Y/N found herself feeling quite lonely as she had stupidly waited on her date to show up for such a long time. Heat crept up her neck in embarrassment when the waiter showed up, the latter’s eyes filled with sympathy as Y/N paid the price of her drink.

Within no time, she was out of the restaurant.

Glancing down at her green dress, she swore under her breath. She tried to book a cab to return to the comfort of her home when her eyes caught the glowing signboard of The Roadhouse right around the corner of the street. The only thing she could think of was to get black-out drunk now. Y/N, still in her high heels, trudged down the path to Ellen’s bar.

Dressed up all for nothing. Rolling her eyes at herself, she went inside the establishment, heading straight towards the counter and taking a seat there. Like any other weekend nights, the place was stuffed. Y/N let her eyes trail over the many patrons of the dingy bar, landing finally on the middle-aged brunette who ran the place

“Ellen!” She called out to the woman.

“Hey, honey,” she approached Y/N, all the while glaring daggers at the drunk she had just previously been arguing with, “A bit overdressed for this place, don't ya think?”

“Your daughter is officially fired from matchmaking services,” Y/N sighed.

“Boy troubles, huh? What can I get ya, hon?” Sympathy was evident in Ellen’s eyes as she spoke. Y/N was as much of a daughter to her as Jo was. The girl had been through so much heartbreak, all Ellen wanted was to see a smile on her face.

“The usual,” Y/N gave a sad smile.

“Rough night indeed, huh?” She raised an eyebrow. The woman in question shrugged defeatedly. Ellen patted her arm in comfort before she left her to arrange for her drink, leaving Y/N to wallow in self-pity.

She thought back to when her life had taken such a traumatic turn. All her friends were either getting engaged, married, or popping out kids. But not Y/n... she was in her late twenties now, and she couldn't even find herself an eligible man.

Ellen pushed the glass towards her. Sighing, she picked it up as she admired the liquid in it. She drank slowly, every sip creating a burning sensation at the back of her throat. Fingers still wrapped around the glassware, she set it down, looking around the bar. The place was filled with mad chatters and howling laughs along with the music blasting from the stereo placed on the deck inside the room, a stark contrast to how lonely she felt. She signaled Ellen for another round, who nodded before giving her that sad understanding smile Y/N was now starting to hate. Frowning, she dropped her head and exhaled.

“Sweetheart, where did that pretty smile for yours go?” Y/N was quickly pulled out from her daze by a very familiar voice; a voice she hadn't heard in a few years. It couldn't be him, he was supposed to be in LA!

“Ella?” The term of endearment brought back dozens of memories, some good and some bad, but all were about him - the freckled face teenage boy with dirty blonde hair and eyes as green as the forest in the summertime she had once fallen for. It brought up the painful memory of their first meet which she had tried to forget so hard.

She remembered the day of their first drama practice when Dean had grudgingly walked into the room. He had reluctantly agreed to play the Prince in the Cinderella act after Cas who was supposed to be the Prince had accidentally ended up with a broken leg. He didn’t know her name, so he had called her ‘Ella’ to get her attention which was the start of their epic friendship.

Y/N didn't dare to turn around to look at him, after all, he wasn't the scrawny teenager from Lawrence anymore. He was now the lead singer and guitarist of a popular rock band with a fancy name and songs that were in the top ten of Billboard music charts. Yes, she did keep up with his rising fame, sometimes even listening to one of his songs before she was once again reminded of the heartbreak he had caused.

“You can't even look at me.” His voice was barely a whisper but loud enough for her to hear as he slid into the stool beside her.

Gathering enough courage, she raised her head. “Dean.” His name rolled off her tongue so easily, but her heart ached for the past. Dean cracked a smile at her as his emerald eyes did not leave hers once. It was as if he was memorizing every tiny detail of her face and if anyone would've asked him, he would've replied that he was.

Y/N hadn't changed much over the years he had spent in LA. She was still the same girl he had first met in school and the last time he had seen her at their graduation. She was a shy girl but they had clicked instantly. Growing up, she was his best friend, his person, his escape.

“Dean Winchester has walked into my bar. Must be my lucky day!” Ellen’s voice thundered across the room, grabbing the attention of a few intoxicated people. “How's LA treating you, boy?”

“Ellen! It's awesome to see you again.” A grin broke out on Dean's face as he jumped out of his seat and pulled the lady into a bear hug. “LA’s pretty okay. It is as good as the industry can be.”

“Heard some of your songs, I knew you had the talent,” Ellen said, jabbing her finger into his chest to prove her point. “Now what can I get ya? On the house.”

“A beer will be just fine. Don't want to show up to the Winchester house drunk!” He chuckled.

“Alright, coming right up. Y/N, honey, you want another round or a glass of water?” The lady asked.

“I'll be leaving in a few. Glass of water it is, El.” She replied but was then interrupted by Dean.

“One drink, with me. It's on me, Ella.” There it was again, that fucking name. A few years ago, that name would have made her cheeks heat up but now, it just made her blood boil. She clenched her hand into fists, tears pricking at her eyes as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Do not call me that.” She hissed, surprising Dean. Y/N turned towards the man, finally taking a good look at him. He had changed a lot, had become more handsome but LA had not modified his clothing style because he was still wearing his signature flannel and jeans accompanied by a jacket. She wondered how many girls had stopped him for a picture or an autograph on his way back to Lawrence, jealousy seeping into her. She hated the way he still had that effect on her.

“Y/N-” She knew what he was going to say. ‘I am sorry’, but she wasn't ready to forgive him now, if ever.

“No. Don't.” She stopped him mid-sentence, hands digging into her purse as she pulled out the money for her drinks, dropping them on the counter.

“El, I am going home.” Ellen, who was silently watching their whole exchange, nodded her head before asking, “Want me to call a cab for you?”

“No. I'm going to crash at your place. I need to have a word with Jo.” Y/N said since it was near impossible for her to walk back to her house, considering she was quite tipsy and still in heels, but she also didn't want to wait until the woman called a cab with Dean Winchester anywhere nearby. After getting her belongings, she got out of the barstool and left the place on wobbly legs. Her feet would no doubt be screaming in pain the next day.

Stepping out, she inhaled deeply, letting a few tears fall as the cool air hit her face. After their graduation, Y/N had sworn she would try her best to forget the older Winchester. She wasn't quite successful in her aim, because many times she would come across his gorgeous face on the cover of a magazine or his song would be playing on the radio, striking up old memories of their time spent together in high school.

Still lost in her thoughts, she took a step forward, only to misjudge the cobblestone path and end up losing her balance. She braced herself for the impending fall but was saved by a pair of strong hands wrapped around her waist.

“Watch your step, sweetheart,” Dean said, letting her down gently. “Lemme see, did you hurt your ankle?” He went down on his knees in front of her, pulling a low gasp out of her as he examined her feet.

“Were you following me?” Y/N gritted out those words.

“No.” He shook his head but she clearly saw through the lie.

“I’m fine. You can go now.” She said, her eyes looking everywhere but the man.

“Come on, don't be so stubborn. Get in the car, I'll drop you off at your house or Jo’s place if you want.” He said looking up, trying to catch her eyes but she was adamant about not giving him that satisfaction. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, lips quivering before she answered.

“Leave me alone.” She muttered, a tear running down her cheek. All that preparation for not breaking down in front of Dean and her body still betrayed her. The man got up. Y/N noticed that he was now wearing a cap, probably to hide from any bystander who might recognize him.

“Y/N/N, I-” Dean was at a loss of words. He hated seeing her so heartbroken and he loathed himself for being the cause of it. He tried to reach out and hold her hand but she recoiled back, making him wince. “Please, Ella.”

“Stop calling me that, Winchester. How many times do I have to repeat that?” Her voice came out as a little whine, making Dean chuckle. He missed it - her tone, the timbre, the intensity in her pitch, and the words it said, which used to be his voice of reason; he missed his best friend. “Why the fuck would you laugh at that? I am not doing stand up comedy out here.” Y/N was still the strong-headed girl he adored.

“You'll probably hurt yourself if you walk in those heels again with how tipsy you are right now. Get in the car, I know you missed cruising around the town in Baby because she missed you for sure.” And that thankfully got the exact reaction out of her that he had anticipated. She finally looked right at him, her face lit up at the pretense of seeing the beloved black car again.

“I thought she was in LA with you.” Y/N said and then it dawned on her, “Did you drive across the States?”

“Damn right I did!” He beamed in reply like he had won a trophy, his heart swelling with happiness when he saw the smile forming on her face mixed with awe and surprise. He still had to go a long way to get her back, but he had to take baby steps. At least he managed to make her smile. “So? Want to go out, just like the old times?”

The smile instantly disappeared from Y/N’s lips and Dean knew he fucked up right then. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the good ol’ days. “Sweetheart, I'm sorry-”

“Just drop me off at Jo’s. That's it.” She said, lowering her gaze. He waved her over to the direction where his car was parked. Y/N started to walk along as Dean wordlessly followed her.

Y/N felt a wave of nausea hit her. She didn't do well in social gatherings and this was her graduation ceremony. One wrong step, one wrong word, or a wardrobe malfunction, and the day could turn into a disaster in an instant.

“Honey, you're gonna be excellent out there! We're all very proud of you.” Mary said while hugging Y/N tightly as they both waited on the former's older son to come downstairs who was running late, as usual. She had grown incredibly close to the Winchester family over the years. They were her rock, especially Dean who was there with her at every step as she went through the separation of her parents.

“Are you and John going to join my parents at the ceremony? Someone needs to stop them before they end up killing each other.” She grimaced.

“Isn't this going to be the first time they are together in one single room, since their….you know-” Sam asked as he came out of the kitchen, a green smoothie in his hands. Dean might have been her best friend, her confidante, but Sam was the little brother she never thought she needed.

“First get that green drink outta my sight, I already feel like I'm gonna throw up. Second, you can speak about the divorce. It's not taboo and it was a long time coming. Everyone knew that.” Y/N reluctantly said. The separation of her parents might have been foreseeable but, nevertheless, it still hurt her to see her parents walkout in two separate ways once the divorce was finalized. The house had become much quieter these days which she was thankful for but she also felt the evident absence of her father.

“Mom and Dad will definitely be there!” Dean announced loudly as he came down the stairs. “Come on let's go. Don't wanna be late for our own graduation ceremony!” She could always count on him to make her day better.

“I should have told you.”

“W-what?” Y/N asked dumbfoundedly as Dean’s gruff voice broke her out of the reverie and pulled her back to reality. A minute passed when she noticed even if his hands were on the steering, he wasn't driving anymore.

“This-” she looked out of the window, “this isn't Jo’s place.”

“No, this is our place,” Dean said.

“Dean.” This was the last place she wanted to be at, let alone be here with Dean. It had taken every ounce of her strength to not run back to this place over the past few years whenever she missed her best friend, only to realize that he had left her in the dust on his path to fame and didn't care about her as much as she used to think. Too many memories were attached to this particular place.

“I missed this, Y/N.” He said, killing the engine and slowly opening the door on his side. Y/N understood what he was trying to do and her mind screamed at her in protest to not follow him but her heart told her to follow the man it belonged to.

Dean finally stepped out of the car and walked over to the closed door on her side. She opened the door herself before he could and stepped out as well with a huff. The place was the same as it ever was. “I haven't been here since graduation.” She blurted out.

“I should have told you,” Dean said as they started to walk to their spot. Y/N chose to remain quiet. “Ella, please say somethin’.”

“I am not your Ella anymore, Dean. Stop calling me that.” She said but this time it wasn't a whine, instead, she yelled it out. She was sick and tired of yearning for the man who had broken her heart several years ago and now she was scared that he was gonna leave her once again.

“You'll always be my Ella.” He said.

“The Prince didn't lie to Cinderella and leave her behind but you- it hurts me to remember how close we were then. You left me without even a simple goodbye, so no, I am not your Ella anymore.” She flinched when he reached out for her.

He had stopped walking now and so had she. Dean moved closer to her before standing exactly in front of her. His hands lightly traced her jaw as she looked up at him. She looked just as enchanting under the moonlight as he remembered. He cupped her face in his hands, thumbs gently caressed her cheeks. She had given up fighting herself now, driven only by instinct. All the walls that she had put up came crumbling down with one touch of his.

“Why do you think I didn't say goodbye to you?” Dean whispered.

“Maybe all the years that we spent together meant nothing to you.” Her voice was like a melody to his ears but the words broke his heart even further.

“Because it was too damn hard. When RC Records called me up three days before graduation, you were the first person I wanted to tell, but I couldn't, ‘cause if I did, I wouldn't have made it to where I am right now.” He said, not a trace of mirth on his face.

“I wouldn't have held you back.” It was simple. Y/N always wanted to stay in Lawrence and look over her mother's bakery shop, and that's what she ended up doing. She now owned the shop and her business was thriving. Dean had wanted to become a singer ever since he was ten when he was forced to play the Prince, opposite to Y/N’s lead. He had found his passion and she had always encouraged it, even when John had strongly protested against him choosing music as his major. “You know I always supported you.”

“I know that, but thinking about not seeing you every day made me not want to go. I kept imagining you upset and that's why I didn't have it in me to tell you about my break.” He said. Y/N grabbed his hands pushing them away from her face.

“You ended up making me sad anyway. So why the fuck are you back?” She was enraged.

“Ella-” Dean tried to come closer but she stepped back, “I came to see my family.”

“Then why are you wasting your time here with me?”

“Because you're the most important person in my life and every day I spent away from you, you were the only person on my mind.” Dean smiled.

“What?”

“You were the first thought when I woke up and the last thought when I went to sleep.” He said and pulled her close when she finally stopped fighting. “I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. I know I am late and probably missed my chance, but five years in LA have taught me to take the risks. I love you, Ella.”

“I can't-” Dean’s smile felt but he quickly recovered.

“I-I understand.” He let out a dry chuckle, “You got a man back at home waiting for you. He sure is one lucky bastard.”

“No. You do not fucking understand! You are just so in your head, it's just-” She flailed her arms around in utter frustration. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to move on? I have been on so many dates but no man was ever enough for me, all because of your sorry ass! The Graduation Day - I knew you always thought of me as your best friend, so I had decided to ask you out myself,”

“Y/N-”

“No, let me finish. You have to fucking listen about how much pain you put me through these five years! The next day, I went to your house only to hear from your parents that you were on your way to LA. I fucking hate you!” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I fucking hate how much I still love you, Dean!”

His eyes widened in surprise as he kept opening and closing his mouth like a damn fish. He was unable to form a coherent sentence and so he cupped Y/N’s cheeks in his big, warm hands once more, but now he dipped down, tilting his face and pulling her in for a kiss. His teeth grazed her bottom lips, making her moan into his mouth. She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks as she found herself completely enamored by him. Her hands snuck to the back of his neck as she steadied herself. Her knees buckled under his hypnotic touch as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, her whole body tingled and toes curled up as his tongue explored every inch of her mouth.

“De,” Y/N tried to catch her breath when Dean finally let go of her lips, already missing the feel of her on him.

His hands traveled down her body, making her gasp aloud at the feel. He lowered his mouth as he started to leave a trail of kisses along her jaw and down her neck. “Dean, please. Don't.” Her three short words made him stop.

“Alright.” He gulped.

“I don't want to get my heart broken again, Winchester, I don't think I can survive it again.” Y/N knew he would return to LA within a week, and so she didn't want to take this any further. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, right?”

“I won't. I am not going back.” Y/N looked at him, surprise evident in her eyes, “I don't care about my career anymore. Five years without you was like living in hell and my bandmates are probably so tired of hearing how much I missed you. I will write my songs from here in Lawrence if it means that I'll be closer to you.”

“You would do that for me?” She asked sincerely.

“I would. I was a stupid kid back then but now I have realized that nothing's more important to me than you. I don't want to lose my Ella ever again.” He said, “I'm sorry for taking so long to understand that. There is no way-” His words were cut off as Y/N captured his lips with her own. The sudden kiss caught him off guard but he quickly pulled himself together to kiss her back. “Shit, Y/N-” he gasped when he felt his dick twitch. He picked her up in quick motion and went towards the car. Y/N giggled when her back lightly collided with Baby’s door. Dean dropped his head, nipping at the pulse point on her neck.

“Dean-” She moaned, which was better than any music he had ever made as his hands slipped under her dress, his fingers hovering over her soaked panties. Her thighs clenched in anticipation.

“You have no idea how long I dreamt of having you. You're soaked, sweetheart. ” He huskily said, his fingers hooking on the waistband of her cotton panties. “Tell me to stop and I will, in a heartbeat. No questions.”

“N-no. Don't stop.” Y/N cooed. Dean dragged down her panties which pooled at her feet. He picked it up and stuffed it into his pocket. Thankfully, there was no one around but the thrill of being out in the open with Dean got her even more hot and bothered. Her hands grasped onto his biceps tightly so that she wouldn't topple over when Dean slipped a finger into her tight pussy. Her mouth fell open, her head dropping on his shoulder as he started pumping slowly, every drag of his finger pushing her closer to the edge.

Dean felt his pants tighten as he heard the sweet moan of his name leave her lips. Her raspy voice was one he could hear all day long, her heavy pants tickling his skin. With one hand he unbuckled his belt, trying to relieve himself a little, but when a cry of pleasure left her lips as he slipped in another finger, he hoped that he wouldn't cream his pants like a freaking teenage boy.

Y/N felt the coil in her stomach tighten as she inched towards her climax. Dean quickened his pace, curling his fingers inside her and brushing her g-spot, each time eliciting a low moan out of her. “Dean….” She couldn't form any coherent words other than chanting his name over and over again and a moment later, the coil snapped as she felt herself coming undone. He delicately pulled his fingers out of her, which were covered in her juice. Dean reached behind her, yanking the door open as he nudged her to go in. She readily obliged and slid into the seat with shaky legs. He climbed into the backseat after her, closing the door behind him.

Her dress had ridden up her thigh, exposing her glistening pussy. Dean’s eyes darkened at the sight before him as he swiftly pulled his shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere in the front. He pushed her dress further up. She raised her hands as he successfully got her out of the garment and unhooked her bra. Y/N moved further back into the seat, her back resting against the door on the other side as Dean started to leave kisses down her body.

“Have you ever thought about this? ‘Cause I did, every freaking day.” Dean asked, kissing the valley between her breasts, the rumble of his voice sending shivers down her spine.

“E-every time I touched myself, I thought of you.” She said, gasping out loud at every word when his mouth found her breasts and started to suck on the soft skin, flicking a nipple with his tongue and twirling the other within his fingers.

“Oh-” Dean raised his head to look at her before he moved south, “Did you think about me between your legs just like this-” He said as he left kisses along her thigh, his stubble creating soft burns on her skin in its wake that she would definitely remember. He finally stopped at her nether regions, his hot breath fanning against her throbbing pussy. “Did you think about me tasting you like this?”

Y/N threw her head back in pleasure when his mouth latched onto her sensitive bundle of nerves, his tongue flicking at her aching nub. Her hands traveled down to his head, her fingers getting tangled up in his soft hair and pulled at the strands, making him groan.

“Fuck-” She exclaimed as Dean hungrily devoured her, his tongue repeatedly assaulting her sensitive pussy, sucking needily on her bundle of nerves. Y/N threw her head back in pleasure as she felt the coil in your stomach tighten before a wave of pleasure washed over her. “Shit!” She gasped as Dean’s tongue lapped her juices hungrily.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you taste so good.” He panted before he unbuttoned his pants pushing them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection sprung from his confines. “Son of a bitch, I don’t have-” Y/N sensed his uneasiness.

“I’m on the pill.” She smirked as she stared at his toned body.

“Well, I’m clean.” She reached out to touch his stomach, hands then traveling down to his length. Dean dropped his head, biting down on his lips, “Y/N-” He pushed her hands away, smirking as he ran his hand along his hardened cock, giving it a few strokes, the tip beaded with precum. He looked at Y/N once and lined himself with her dripping entrance when she gave him a nod to go ahead.

His swollen tip teasingly nudged at her opening before he pushed himself into her.

“Shit Y/N-” Dean grunted, simultaneously as Y/N hissed out at the painful sensation at the beginning as he pushed himself into her, letting her adjust around his size before she told him to move. He circled his hips as he slowly pulled out, leaving only the tip of his engorged cock inside her, before pushing back in again, deeper than before.

“Holy fuck-” Y/N moaned out when he quickened his pace, hitting her g-spot repeatedly with every thrust as they both inched towards their release. Dean kissed her as he continued to thrust deep into her, their breathing growing erratic, the windows of the chevy fogged up and the car filled with their groans and moans as they both chased their release. She hooked her arms at the small of his back as he started to nibble at her sweet spot. His hand moved south, his thumb rubbing circles on her clit which further edged her.

“Shit De!” Y/N cried out loud as her walls fluttered around his pulsating length when she felt herself coming undone. Dean’s thrusts became sloppy as he grunted into the crook of her neck before he spilled into her with one cry of her name, painting her walls with his seed. He dropped his head, trying to catch his breath before he gently pulled out.

“Fuck sweetheart.” Dean panted, beads of sweat lining his forehead as they both laid in each other’s arms, basking in the post-coital bliss. “Was this better than your fantasies? ‘Cause, ‘twas surely better than mine.” Dean smirked, reaching out to grab a piece of cloth to clean themselves up. “We should have done this sooner.”

“If only you hadn't been such a coward.” Y/n teased with a giggle.

“Your dumbass could have called me up. I wasted five years being one, terrified to hear how much you hate me.” He grumbled, cleaning up the mess on the seat. Honestly, she could have but she didn't ‘cause she was scared to hear the truth as well; that Dean had truly left her.

“So, you’re sayin’ we’re both a couple of dumbasses.” Y/N chuckled, putting on her bra.

“Your words, not mine.” Dean gave her a sly smirk. “The Winchester household will be so delighted, once they know I finally got my head out of my ass and looked at the beautiful woman right in front of me.” He was right in every sense. The Winchesters, all of them had always believed that those two would end up together. Everyone saw how in love they were except Y/N and Dean.

“Isn't it too early for the introduce-the-girlfriend-to-the-family thing?” She asked which got an eye roll out of the man. “Panties?”

“I don't have them.” Dean sneakily raised his hands.

“I saw you stuff them into your pocket.” He grabbed her dress from the front seat, throwing it at her.

“Put this on, or preferably, just don't.” He gave her a boyish smile, getting a raised eyebrow in reply, “Oh I'm not done with you. Gotta make up for the lost years, sweetheart.” Dean's eyes darkened at the thought as Y/N gulped, knowing she wouldn't be able to walk properly for weeks.

Feedback is highly appreciated!

[sleepyseguin]

tyler seguin | i still see your face (nsfw)

summary: you and tyler break up. it’s harder than you thought it would be. 

a/n: highly recommend listening to driver’s licence by olivia rodrigo to get the whole vibe. my spotify must think i have a problem by the constant repeat. 

It’s not like you haven’t had a break up before. It’s just that this one feels different. Raw. A ragged edge that’s been torn. You drink too much beer and sleep too little. Your friends rally around you, of course they do, drag you to clubs with too many teenagers, tell you they never liked Tyler anyway. But the lie is thin, and in the dim bathroom of the bar one says, but why did you guys break up? What happened? You blink at her, mouth tasting of tequila. I don’t know.

-/-

Of course you know. You’re an adult. You made this decision together, sat on his couch. One of his throw pillows hugged to your chest so he couldn’t see the way your hands were shaking.

“If this is really what you want,” Tyler had said, and you could hear the scratch in his throat, the way his eyes shone too bright. Unshed tears.

 You hadn’t been able to speak, tongue too thick, hot tears on your cheeks, fresh ones ready to replace as they dried sticky on your chin.

 He was away from home too much. Your lives were going in different directions. You had opportunities to travel with work, and it’s not like he could come with you. It was best to do it now, a clean break, rather than struggle on, slowly tearing.

 You’d cried all the way home from his house, struggling to keep the wheel straight. Your mother would have been horrified by the reckless driving. When you’d finally dared to look at your phone, that first night alone, Tyler’s text made you sob all over again. I love you. Always.

-/-

You talk to him, sometimes. You can’t help yourself. It’s like an itch that becomes unbearable. You have to scratch. Meaningless text message chains. How are you? Fine, you? I’m okay. I miss you. I miss you too. You know it’s not helpful, not the path towards healing that your married friends preach. But it makes it easier to sleep. Knowing he’s still out there. It’s a blissful kind of agony when he texts you unprompted, in the middle of the night, sometimes the middle of the afternoon. I think of you all the time or I dreamt about you or I thought I saw you at the game. Your own misery overwhelms. Winter sets in. You struggle through grey days, take the long way home to drive past his street. Pray you don’t see another car next to his.

-/-

You cry on the phone to your mother, great big sobs like a child does when they’ve lost their favourite toy. She tells you she’ll fly out.

 “No, it’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can do this.”

 “You can,” she assures, but the surety seeps away as soon as you hang up. A bottle of wine in front of the television. Take out. You’re either starving or not hungry at all now. You only watch ten minutes of an episode before you’re switching to the NHL channel. It’s too hard to forget the schedule. It’s like a reminder in your brain when you wake up in the morning, he’s playing today. You used to nap together, in the afternoons before games. The weak sunlight, the dancing dust mites. A Friend’s episode turned low. Tyler would reach for you in his sleep, nuzzle into your neck. Like he could never get close enough. Like he knew you would leave one day.

-/-

A mutual friends birthday. You’d tried to make excuses, but even you didn’t believe them.

 “It’s worse to avoid him,” your friend says, “It will only make it harder later.”

So in an effort to do the Right Thing, to be a Big Girl, and Move On, you find yourself drinking too strong punch, pieces of apple and orange floating in a plastic cup, leaning into a guy you just met and laughing too loud.

 And it is fun. For awhile. A mix of old friends and new. Loud music. And for most of the night, he’s not there. He’s so late you think he’s not coming. And you pretend you’re crying because you’re relieved and not because you’re disappointed. You’ve been smart enough to take yourself to the bathroom for the small meltdown, bent over the counter and taking deep breaths. You’re too old to be getting this smashed at a house party. It’s hard to focus on yourself in the mirror, bending light. It’s a good thing he’s not coming, you tell yourself, and wish you could believe it.

 You’re headed to the kitchen, the sink full of ice and hiding your drinks. Tyler is there. Tyler is there, standing in the hallway, talking to the host. His big hand makes the beer he’s holding look like a kid’s toy. He’s laughing, crinkly eyes, the sound reaching you. Slapping the guy on the shoulder, enjoying the joke. He’s so happy. How can he be so happy?

Dark eyes meet yours, the fall of his mouth from the grin. He goes to say something, call out maybe, but you’re turning away already, pushing back into the lounge room, the backdoor. Fresh air. Cold crisp of a Texan winter. The weather reporters are saying it might snow this year. He finds you. Of course he does. In the back-garden, looking up at the moon, counting stars. Your name in a familiar voice. The way he says it makes your heart hurt. You can barely look at him, the grass moving under your feet as you turn to face him. Curls peeking out from under a beanie. Black hoodie, dark jeans. You recognise the hoodie. You used to wear it to bed sometimes.

 “Hi,” you say, trying to be causal, wanting desperately to be, but at the same time you’re reaching out, clinging onto his arm. Don’t ever let go again.

 Tyler smiles, sad and small, “It’s nice to see you.”

 “Yeah,” you breathe, head back, gazing up at him. The moon has nothing on Tyler. Come back to me, you want to say, but this is your fault. You did this. You made this happen.

 “I wanted to talk to you,” he says, and you think yes, yes, just ask me, I’ll come back I promise, “I think it’s better if we don’t talk anymore. It’s too hard.”

 “Oh,” you say. It suddenly seems so much colder out here. “Okay.”

You watch him walk away, back into the house, the light of the party. And if you cry in the Uber on the way home, no one else has to know.

-/-

The first time you sleep together, afterwards, you could almost convince yourself it’s an accident. Not talking hadn’t lasted long. A loss, a commiserating text, a wish to just go back to the way things were. We can, you’d said, just for one night.

 It’s almost awkward, the way he’s a stranger around you again. He looks tired, sore, sweatpants and a hoodie. Pink cheeks from the cold outside. His hair is still damp from the shower, curling around his ears. You want to stay here, like this, forever, letting him sit you down in the bed, holding your face in his big hands to kiss you from where he stands between your knees. The way Tyler says your name, wanting, needy. The press of his body on yours. You missed this. You missed this so much. It would never be the same with anyone else. The way he touches you, so carefully, so purposefully. He knows just how you like it, just how you work together.

 It’s a habit, for you to be on top after a game, not worth making him expend any more energy. But he fights you for it, doesn’t let you settle, rolls you over onto your back again. You protest, mildly.

 “It’ll make you sore,” you say, can’t stop touching him, his hair, his face, his back, his chest. His skin is warm from the hoodie.

 “Don’t care,” Tyler says, a crooked smile, nudging his nose against yours, “I want it like this, want to see you properly.”

 Your heart is broken and remade simultaneously. It’s all you can do not to pull the doona over both of you and hide forever, keep him here like a prisoner. Cherish him for an age. His mother would never forgive you.

 Your body aches for him, as he nudges open your legs, kisses your mouth, your neck, your breasts. You should take your time, enjoy it, the last time, but you can’t help but surge towards the end.

 “Want you inside me,” you whisper, fingers on his hips, angling him.

 “Yeah,” Tyler rasps, aligning himself, “Fuck. Yeah, please.”

The relief of him sinking home, the opening of your body to him. It’s too easy, almost, the rhythm he settles into. Your legs tight around his waist, groaning when he pulls one up over his shoulder, finds a new angle. A big hand palming at your breast, the way he says your name, thick and low. You come a few moments before him, get off on the way he watches you, holds you, fingers caressing just above where he slides in and out of you. It takes everything not to cry, the final release, the drop of endorphins.

 Tyler shakes when he comes, a whole body shudder as he holds himself deep, panting against your ear. You stare at the ceiling and blink away tears. How could you ever have walked away from this? Nothing feels right unless he’s here.

 Later, he gets up to leave, but you reach out before he can get out of bed.

 “Please stay,” you whisper, pathetic. Tyler’s a shadow in the dark, but he’s warm when he slides back under the covers, gathers you up against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat as you fall asleep.

-/-

It takes you another week to swallow your pride. You call your mother, again, cry on the phone, again.

 “I think I was wrong, I think I made a huge mistake.”

 “If he is who you say he is,” she counsels, “He’ll forgive you.”

 “What if he doesn’t?”

You’re convinced that someone will be in your parking spot the whole drive to his house. A new car. A girl’s car. You can’t breathe along his whole tree lined street, until you see the empty spot. Like it’s waiting for you. Like it has been this whole time.

 You almost slump into him when he opens the door, the relief, the grief. He’s surprised to see you. Sleepy. Got in late last night from a Roadie. The dogs are everywhere at once, bumping you into each other as they try to get a cuddle. Tyler stumbles into you, forced by Marshall’s heavy tail. Your hand on his ribcage, steadying. Are you really going to do this? On his front step? Behind him, you can see your red coat on the coat hook. So that’s where it was. You’ve been looking for it in the cold. And he’s kept it, this whole time. Waiting for you.

 “I’m sorry,” you say, “I’m so, so sorry.”

Tyler shakes his head, confused, furrowed brow, “What’s going on?”

 “I made a mistake. I made a stupid mistake. I got scared, and I panicked. The truth is. I love you. And I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. And it’s scary. I’m so scared. But I shouldn’t have taken it on you like this. It was wrong. And if you can’t. If you can’t forgive me I understand. But. I really, really want you, too.”

 He says your name, quietly, prayer like. Your hand is still on his chest.

 “Are you sure?” He asks, and the dogs are still all around you, the front door is wide open. Tyler’s socked feet on the porch.

 “I’m so sure.”

And he’s laughing. He’s laughing. And he’s kissing you. Warm and fresh and familiar. And then you’re laughing and then you’re crying and Tyler is just holding, holding, holding you.

And along the street, a warm breeze blows through the trees. The promise of summer.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed - Episode 02

Warning: Spoilers for all 50 episodes!

(Masterpost ) (Previous Episode) (Next Episode)

Donkey Riding

way ho and away we go, donkey riding donkey riding way ho and away we go, riding on a donkey

Wei Wuxian and Apple are doing their best for the Ministry of Culture and Tourism. 

Xiao Zhan had trouble riding the donkey sitting side-saddle, so the Department of Questionable Practical Effects made him a fake leg to wear while riding regular style. 

Can you spot it? It’s very hard to spot. It is very convincing.

Simple Pleasures

Wei Wuxian takes his time wandering up the nearest mountain, and half of the cultivators in the land also wander up this mountain because...Night Hunting! The cultivators are hot and thirsty from walking because they forgot that they all know how to fly. 

Wei Wuxian relaxes by a well and listens to people stanning him. 

Also

I’m going to say it: Wei Wuxian never met a drinking vessel he couldn’t blow.

Everything is Beautiful at the Ballet

The actress who plays A-Yan is named Zhang Linran. She probably has studied dance since she was 4 and now she gets her big break which turns out to be feeding an apple to a donkey. So let’s pause for a second to look at how beautifully she moves.  

Reunions are Awkward, Part 1

Wei Wuxian meets up with one of his family members and it goes super well. 

I...like Jin Ling? He’s much less of a douchebag than his dad, his uncles Jin, Jiang, and Mo (the three stooges), and every damn one of his Jin cousins. He’s genuinely brave (his Dad’s primary good quality) and his hair is on fleek. He’s still a whiny diaper baby, but I like him. 

(much more after the cut!)

Then Jiang Cheng shows up, looking fine as hell and radiating peak arrogant-prick energy.

When he discovers that ‘Mo Xuanyu” stuck a piece of paper to Jin Ling, he tells the child to literally murder him. Excellent uncleing! A+++++ would recommend.  

“In fact, literally murder anyone who uses Yiling Laozu’s tools, like talismans, lure flags, or spirit compasses - basically murder everyone in the Lan Clan plus those other fanboys we saw coming up the hill. Then get out there and make some friends, goddamn it!”

These nets full of cultivators on this daytime night hunt are the only time we ever see anything in a net during a night hunt.  In fact dudes constantly go night hunting and the only prey we ever see is rock lady, murder turtle, and a couple of rag mops in the lake. 

You Are Not Qualified to Speak to Me

Also radiating arrogant-prick energy on this occasion is Lan Wangji. He has been using pettiness as a weapon since long before he met this Jiang Cheng turkey, and he *brings it* when Jiang Cheng tries to have a conversation with him.

Letting your eyes wander everywhere except to his punchable face while you ignore his passive-aggressive questions? Quality work. 

Dropping a silence spell on his child and then letting your own child explain it to him? Golden. 

Lan Wangji is never ever going to forgive Jiang Cheng for what he did on cliff day, and his silence here is as pointed as an ice pick. I suspect the last words Lan Wangji actually spoke to him were “Jiang Wanyin, stop it,” sixteen years ago. 

Jiang Cheng is actually the bigger person in this particular interaction, visibly mastering his temper and telling Jin Ling to take his medicine. 

Reflecting

Wei Wuxian hangs out by a beautiful river and hallucinates for a while. River Jiang Yanli is nurturing and River Jiang Cheng is pissed off, so there are no surprises there.  River Jiang Cheng thinks that Wei Wuxian is a promise-breaking douchebag. He’s not exactly wrong. 

Courtesy of convenient gossiping cultivators, Wei Wuxian discovers that the 16 year old arrogant kid from the Jin clan who his brother from the Jiang clan has custody of is actually and quite obviously Jin Rulan.

Well fuck I guess now I care about something, that’s inconvenient. 

Needing to help parent the child of the sister who parented him is what draws Wei Wuxian fully into his new life. 

As soon as he has this realization, Apple comes back from roaming around, and never gives him any trouble after this for the rest of the story. Which...probably doesn’t mean anything. 

Wen Gravesite

Does Wen Ning hang out here because it’s where he and his (dead) people came from? Oh great, now I am sad. 

Judging by all the leaves on this grave thingy I’m going to say that this grave tender dude is, ah, not very good at his job. 

Get him, Jingyi!

I feel like maybe we all focus too much on how Lan Jingyi is so hilarious and sardonic and not enough on how he is a such a biscuit. 

Soul Grass

As mentioned in the previous post, Chinese spiritual concepts don’t always translate well into English. Soul grass? Sure, why not. 

This is where Wei Wuxian’s Sherlock Holmes brain starts to work, although he still doesn’t remember really basic stuff about Dafan Mountain. Dying and changing bodies is rough on the old neurochemistry. This creates more opportunities for flashbacks, however, and if there’s one thing The Untamed deffo needs more of, it’s kissing flashbacks.

Temple Statue

Presumably grave-tender dude is also in charge of clearing away spiderwebs at the temple, because it’s not getting done. 

Jin Ling walks into the temple blaspheming at full volume. 

Since this isn’t a Greek story, he isn’t immediately struck blind for this. Then when he wishes for the statue to come alive, it obligingly does.  Everything’s coming up Rulan!

Wei Wuxian shows up to rescue all the kids by throwing talismans at the monster which does not tip anyone off to who he is. 

Baby Cultivator Babysitting

Lan Wangji chills out in the cultivators’ pavilion with Jiang Cheng and their mutual hate boners.

Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian forgets all about his nephew and turns into cool professor guy, explaining the basics of soul-eating to the baby cultivators and gleefully encouraging their fear of Hanguang-Jun’s punishments. 

Because the Lan babies are good filial children they are super respectful and engaged with this random adult who is lecturing them. They also - like their own Hanguang-Jun at their age - see and admire Wei Wuxian’s intellect. It’s easy to forget how extremely smart Wei Wuxian is, because of how extremely dumb Wei Wuxian is.

Lan Jingyi suddenly figures out Wei Wuxian is not crazy. 

Bis. Kit. 

Then Rock Lady shows up and Jin Ling sticks 6 arrows into her while Lans Jingyi and Sizhui stand around not bothering to draw their swords.

I see a lot of comments about the bad effects in the statue sequences but I think Rock Lady is all right. The figure animation is decent and the lighting is no worse on her than on everything else in the scene. Her hair is nice, for a rock person.

Admittedly I just finished watching Guardian which has CGI monsters so bad they may have injured my retinas and possibly also my DNA, so the bar, for me, is pretty low. Rock lady clears it with room to spare.   

Note: Wei Wuxian’s flute playing does zippity towards controlling the statue. Not sure what his plan was here.

Wen Ning Kicks Ass

Now we get to meet Wen Ning, who appears to be a stone-cold badass. Later we will discover how hilariously inaccurate that assessment is. 

While all versions of Wen Ning are delightful, this version of Wen Ning is also...strangely attractive? He’s got a Patti-Smith-Horses-Era vibe here, instead of his more usual lost-baby-dork vibe. And his dreamy “I have nails in my head” expression is intriguing. 

I mean, he’s not a total snack like zombie Song Lan or pre-zombie Song Lan or blind Song Lan or post-zombie Song Lan, but this look is a good one for Wen Ning, is what I’m saying.

Reunions are Awkward, Part 2

Lan Wangji, who has 99% already recognized Wei Wuxian because of the haunted sword and the fierce jawline and beautiful neck and tiny tiny waist, is summoned by his flute playing as inexorably as the Ghost General was. 

Jiang Cheng also recognizes Wei Wuxian and goes into full beatdown mode, thwarted (silently) by Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian attempts to preserve his incognito by sassing Jiang Cheng in as sibling-like a manner as possible. 

Hanguang-Jun’s Pro-Ghost Agenda Has Been Clear for Some Time

This Jiang/Lan fight is hilarious when you consider the implications.

Macroexpression vs. Microexpression

Mo Xuanyu brought Wei Wuxian back using sacrifice summons, a dark ritual invented by Wei Wuxian that he, most likely, did NOT show to Lan Wangji back in the day. So it’s a pretty safe bet that Lan Wangji doesn’t know that Wei Wuxian was gifted a body, rather than stealing one.

when your brother turns around, you must whip him you will never live it down unless you whip him

When Jiang Cheng lets loose with Zidian, it’s not just because he’s angry. He’s using purple power to force Wei Wuxian’s ghost out of the body he’s apparently possessed. And Lan Wangji instantly STOPS him from doing that.

Clan Leader Jiang: this person has been possessed, against their will, by an evil ghost

Future Chief Cultivator Lan: Counterpoint: I am banging the ghost

Flashback Time

Welcome to your 30-episode flashback!

Once I used to join in Every boy and girl was my friend Now there's revolution, but they don't know What they're fighting

Let us close our eyes Outside their lives go on much faster Oh, we won't give in We'll keep living in the past

Road Tripping to Summer School

Gosh I’m looking forward to younger, kinder, more relatable Jiang Cheng.

...prick. 

Incidentally, until now this episode didn’t know that Jiang Cheng has smile muscles, and neither did the person who glued his wig on for him.

I Like Rabbits

Here we have our first rabbit in a large collection of rabbit iconography that appears in The Untamed. 

Instead of sending everyone to the Wikipedia page for Tu'er Shen I’m going to take this opportunity to rec the short film Kiss of the Rabbit God by Andrew Thomas Huang (tw: blood, tw:body-mod cutting) which you can read about and watch over at  Nowness.com 

Particularly if you are a queer person of Chinese heritage, check it out. 

So. What the fuck are these? Are they food? 

Are they made from wax? Or corn starch? or pig intestines? 

Wei Wuxian runs off to get laid drunk and Jiang Cheng grumps about it. Jiang Yanli reminds him that being free is a Jiang Clan Rule, so really Wei Wuxian is following the rules by not following the rules. Does that mean he’s not free? My head hurts. 

Jiang Cheng: yes but grump grump grump

Jiang Yanli: Nothing bad will ever happen because of A-Xian’s choices, trust me

Outro

Wei Wuxian faint tally: one  Caught by: the cold hard ground

Soundtrack: 1. Donkey Riding by Great Big Sea 2. Living in the Past by Jethro Tull 3. Whip It by Devo

Fic prompt:  Lan Wangji’s internal monologue while he sits in the pavilion with Jiang Cheng 

If you write a fic from this prompt and want to share, please post a link in comments!

Bonus: Wang Zuocheng, macro-expression king

Episode 03 Restless Rewatch coming soon!

[amyisherenowitsokay]

You know what just to SPICE it up a bit imma say zadr too bitch

This bitch tryna give me arthritis smdh. Making me out myself for my dual-ship on main, can't even believe a bitch.

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

1. How did they first meet?

School. We must never forget the infamous handcuffs scene.

2. What was their first impression of each other?

Pure, unrivaled loathing.

3. Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Gaz said "kiss already" and throws things at them when they're getting too far away from "I want you dead" territory and well into "you want to fuck me so bad and it makes you look stupid" territory. Professor Membrane thinks they're adorable.

4. Who felt romantic feelings first?

Dib. Hormones get the best of us all. You can only be obsessed with someone so long before motivations get blurry.

5. Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Zim would nearly break his PAK and commit accidental die trying to delete the emotions or install an emotional inhibitor. Dib would have a full mental breakdown trying to sort through it, which would manifest poorly in his behavior and negatively impact his ability to engage in their usual altercations. Pro tip: if you are painfully attracted to someone, being in a position where they pin you to the asphalt or lean over your desk to hiss insults at you is a bad idea.

6. If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

I stand by what I said on my ZAGR post in that Zim doesn't know what a soulmate is, or the concept of a soul, but given this is in regards to his arch-nemesis instead of a creature he's mostly indifferent too, he'd be pissed at the insinuation he was in any way bound to Dib. Dib's fragile psyche would not survive the revelation.

7. What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Really empty. Their rivalry and parallel situations regarding neglectful authority figures is what keeps them going for so many years.

GENERAL

1. Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

As someone who thinks Zim doesn't understand even the concept of not being a possessive jackass, I think Zim just sort of concludes after awhile that, regardless of Dib's feelings, or even Zim's own feelings, whatever they have makes them wholly and entirely each other's. Just completely and hilariously misunderstanding the concept of a relationship, but still being incredibly presumptive in assuming they already have one. He also doesn't let Dib know of this revelation either, so eventually Dib explodes about his crush, and Zim's like "we are already together???? moron???" Dib could argue, and he kind of wants to, but he also never expected Zim to reciprocate, so he just sort of nods and is like "you know what, sure" and that's the end of it. They do not have an anniversary, but Dib's not really like that, and Zim doesn't know anniversaries are a thing anyways.

2. Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

Again, stealing from my own ZAGR post, but I don't think Zim's really a 'date' person who would plan out that sort of thing. Dib is an awkward moron with arguably worse social skills than even Zim, and mentally comes to the conclusion that dragging Zim on investigations is basically like a date, and Zim doesn't bitch about it anymore than expected, therefore he is a master of romance, so it's fine.

3. What was their first kiss like?

Awkward, and quick. Dib is not a great communicator, nor is he great at explaining things like human demonstrations of affection, especially not when Zim's scowling impatiently at him through is fumbling and stuttering. He just goes for it, and it's quick and he misses his mouth almost. Zim is extremely surprised, especially when Dib makes terrible excuses about needing to be elsewhere and flees. Zim does his own research, and their second kiss is predated by a lecture about being better than Dib at everything/Dib being bad at everything. It is much more successful, even if afterwards Dib instigates a fight about Zim's tongue being weird.

4. Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

First everything, except kiss. Gretchen kissed Dib in high school as a dare. Zim will never forgive her for it.

5. What’s their height difference? Age difference?

I'd die to make them the same height, but I think the image of Zim being average height while Dib is a gangly big boi is just too funny. Zim would be pissed, and Dib would be so smug but so uncoordinated.

6. What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Gaz interacts with them as minimally as possible, because they are loud and gross and annoying, but she's okay with Zim overall. They have a mutual understanding that Dib is stupid, completely reckless, and requires constant supervision to keep him from getting eaten by a ghoul or something. Gaz does genuinely trust him to skewer anything that tries to kill her brother, but she also knows that Dib isn't the only one with 0 sense of self-preservation. Dib was initially wary of Professor Membrane's reaction, because his dad is sort of unpredictable when it comes to his only son, but the Professor's only commentary is that he is glad his son finally made it official with his 'little green friend.' Dib then realizes that the implication in that perpetual comment about Zim had air quotes around that "friend" part all along.

Dib thinks Gir's gross and loud and doesn't get him, but he likes to team up with him and/or use him as a means to annoy Zim. The Base hates him, because now there's two morons with no sense of self-preservation that it needs to keep track of. Minimoose and Dib are bros.

7. Who takes the lead in social situations?

Zim, if only because he is arguably more 'charming' than Dib's fumbling attempts at communication with non-paranormal parties.

8. Who gets jealous easier?

Zim. Dib I think would have his 'HTTYD Hiccup moment' as he gets older, but still has that ingrained low self-esteem from years of ridicule and abuse. He is completely oblivious to the new attention he gets. Zim, however, is not. Dib never really notices the cause of his weird snarling and clinginess, but he shrugs it off as Zim just being weird and continues with whatever he was doing.

9. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

Zim is a slut, I will die on this hill.

LOVE

1. Who said “I love you” first?

Dib. He says it casually, in the dark, when they're on a stake-out to find some wood goblin or something. He says it like he's talking about something plane and unremarkable.

I think a ZADR relationship would need Zim to be a lot more independent in terms of researching how romantic relationships 'work,' since Dib's not a great communicator, and there's an ingrained rivalry that will never dissolve between them, no matter how many times they kiss, so Zim would be a lot more motivated to figure things out on his own. He would, in this circumstance, know the weight of Dib's way-too-casual admittance, and it would be a huge shock to him. He'd be pretty shaken about it for awhile, and Dib's not bothered when he doesn't reply. Dib would be pretty sure Zim would never admit it, but he does, eventually, because he refuses to be a coward about it.

2. What are their primary love languages?

Verbal affirmations. With their self-esteems firmly in the toilet in Zim's kitchen, being able to have someone validate them who they respect would mean a lot to them.

3. Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

Dib. He uses it to start fights with Zim about linguistics and metaphors. Also, he's 99.9% positive Zim secretly is flattered by it, but hates that he is.

4. How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

Zim is very clingy, but Dib's too on the move to really pin down for a good cuddle frequently. He's twitchy and his minds always racing, but every once in a while when Zim's completely fed up, or Dib's running on fumes but still forcing himself on, Zim will all but pin him to a cushioned surface and force him to sleep. Neither of them are PDA people.

5. Who initiates kisses?

Zim. Dib's really shy about it, and also normally too distracted to pay Zim the attention he so obviously deserves, and often misses Zim's 'signals.'

6. Who’s the big and little spoon?

PAK not comfy against sternum. It's also easier to force Dib to sleep if he's the big spoon, because he can pin his limbs.

7. What are their favorite things to do together?

Paranormal investigations, and morally ambiguous and/or largely dangerous experiments.

8. Who’s better at comforting the other?

Dib, which is hilarious, because he's about as smooth as a cheese grater, but he is very attuned to the person he's been obsessed with for years, and he can also relate to a lot of his issues. While Zim usually shrugs off the sentimentality and the empathy, dismissing it as 'pity,' the affirmation means a lot to him.

9. Who’s more protective?

Zim. He has to anticipate his lover's stupidity to make sure he stays alive to hunt ghosts another day.

10. Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

Verbal. Hormones are real, but there's something that eases the sting of years of abusive in a crooning praise or a sincere compliment.

11. What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

https://open.spotify.com/track/3IvUhEVbbA81QnEVhsFHiH?si=b3c5787c9ff14105

12. What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

It is primarily age-old insults that lack the bite and sincerity they once had.

13. Who remembers the little things?

Dib. Zim isn't inattentive by any means, cataloguing all of Dib's weird habits and nuances and what not, but for all the compensating Zim does to keep Dib safe and healthy, Dib reciprocates in meaningful gestures. He remembers to pack Zim-friendly snacks on their road trips and ways to keep Gir entertained, if they have to bring him. He always checks the weather and has an extra coat, just in case. Never makes Zim feel bad about needing to check, just one more time, to see if he got any incoming messages from home.

DOMESTIC LIFE

1. If they get married, who proposes?

Dib.

2. What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

It's just Gaz, Minimoose, and Gir. Membrane is too far away to attend, but that was deliberate. Dib didn't want his tendency to make things about 'the Membrane line' effect the intimacy and importance of the ceremony. Also, Zim insists on incorporating some Irken rituals into it, so it'd be hard to make excuses and explanations to why Zim wants Dib to fuck with his weird pink backpack during their wedding.

3. How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

No kiddos. Neither of them would be interested, even if it was biologically possible.

4. Do they have any pets?

Seriously, Gir counts, right?

5. Who’s the stricter parent?

Dib. Zim refuses to parent Gir when Dib is more inclined to do it, since he's more irritated by it.

6. Who worries the most?

Dib has perpetual anxiety. So does Zim, but he masks it better.

7. Who kills the bugs in the house?

Dib, to prevent the gooey grossness that is Gir's bug-breath.

8. How do they celebrate holidays?

Just with Gaz.

9. Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Zim will strap Dib to a bed himself to get him to go the fuck to sleep, because it's been over 48 hours you insufferable human, and--!

10. Who’s the better cook?

Dib's idea of cooking is a microwave, salt, and pepper. Zim is forced to learn the wonders of human food to keep his idiot from dying of malnutrition.

11. Who likes to dance?

Gir.

[slafkovskys]

how could i forget / a. turcotte

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

my masterlist!

title from 3:15 by bazzi

warning: implied sexual content and a lot of f-bombs 

-

you were staring out of the window, watching as the white flakes fell from the sky. it was the first snow of the year. you smile, remembering last year's first snowfall and the year before that. so many memories made during this normal, michigan occurrence.

memories you could never forget with a person who sometimes you wished that you could.

“hey, y/n?” cassidy calls, causing you to turn around. she’s got her backpack thrown across her shoulders and a blanket tucked under her arm, “i’m heading out. i should be back by sunday.”

“okay. be careful,” you wrap your arms around your roommate, “text me when you get there and tell mary i miss her.”

cassidy shakes her head, “she’ll make you cookies and tell me i can’t have any.”

you both share a smile before she walks out of your dorm, you follow to lock the door behind her. while she was going home for the weekend, you had no plans of leaving. your plans included bundling up under the covers and attempting to finish any work that you hadn’t already so that you could have the weekend off to just relax.

you see your phone light up from where it was charging on your desk, so you walk over to see who’s calling. there’s no name, only a number, but you only knew one person from illinois.

it made your heart stop.

you watch it ring, unable to move and secretly hoping that once they hear your voicemail they’ll realize that they’ve got the wrong number. the screen goes black for only a second before it lights up again with the same number. the same dimpled grin still haunting your mind.

you answer the call, pressing the phone to your ear. he’s talking to someone else, but he stops when you speak, “hello?”

he’s quiet at first and then, “it’s snowing.”

“how do you know that?” you ask, going back over to the window. you watch as a girl almost loses her footing on the sidewalk because of how slick it had become. her friend laughs, you don’t. “why do you know that?”

“i’m here, y/n,” he says and you take a sharp breath.

“where exactly is ‘here’ alex?” you bite your lip.

“michigan. plymouth specifically,” you’re silent, unsure of what to say. what could you say? he hadn’t been this close in almost a year. you hadn’t wanted him this close in almost a year. “are you in lansing?”

“where else would i be in the middle of the semester?” your statement is filled with venom reserved only for him and he winces.

“can i come see you?” you go quiet again. “i know that you hate me and i’m the last person that you want to look at right now, but i leave tomorrow. i leave for germany tomorrow and i can’t go without seeing you. saying goodbye to you.”

“why now?” you whisper. “you haven’t called me for a year and now- now you want to see me because you’re getting shipped off to europe for a few months? who the fuck do you think you are alex?”

“baby,” he whispers, voice shaking, “i know that i’m an asshole. i promise you that i tell myself every day, but please. please let me come and see you so i can try and fix it.”

“you can’t fix it, alex,” you say, voice cracking as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. he sighs and you ball your hand into a fist as the next words tumble out of your mouth, “be careful. the roads are already icy. text me when you’re outside so that i can let you in.”

“i love you,” he says. you don’t believe him.

you hang up the phone and throw it on your bed, grabbing a pillow to cover your face as you let out a frustrated scream. it was full of everything that you’d been holding in for a year. the pain of losing him. the thoughts of not knowing what you had done wrong. wondering what you could have done to make him stay. yet here you were, letting him stroll back into your life after you had worked so hard to erase him from it.

it was closure, you told yourself as you grabbed your things to go and shower.

it was closure, you told yourself as you pulled a dress from your closet before shoving it back in and grabbing leggings instead.

it was closure, you told yourself as you put on your slippers to go downstairs and let him in two hours later.

there he was, standing outside of the door with his hand shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants and his hood pulled over his head. he looks up as you push open the door and slips inside, “thank you.”

silently, you turn around and walk back up the stairs to your dorm with him following closely behind. you swallow the lump in your throat as you unlocked the door, letting you both inside. you walk over to the window while he stands awkwardly in the middle of the room.

you lean forward to look out, “germany, huh?”

“yeah,” he scratches the back of his head, “are you- are you mad?”

“am i mad that you’re leaving or am i mad that you just ghosted me out of nowhere?” you ask, finally turning to face him. his hands are shoved back in his pockets but he’s looking straight at you. “because i’m not mad that you’re going. how could i be? i’m mad i had to fucking find out from instagram and not you. i’m fucking mad because you just left me with no explanation. i’m fucking mad-”

your voice breaks.

he moves forward almost timidly, ready for you to tell him to back away. you hold your hand out for him and let you pull him into his chest. you sob into the fabric of his sweatshirt while he runs a hand through your hair, “you don’t know how bad i feel-”

“then why’d you do it?” you ask, face still smothered in his chest. “we talked about la. we talked about getting a house. we talked about kids. did that mean nothing to you?”

“it meant everything to me,” he assured, pulling you back and placing his hands on your cheeks. they were warm from his pockets. “i got scared.”

“of what?”

“i got scared that you wouldn’t want me. after i got drafted, that night when we were in bed, we talked about life, the future, our future, and why would you want to stay with me? you knew i was going to sign after one year and then i’d be gone. i didn’t want to hold you back.”

“what the fuck?” you breath out. “that’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard you say and i’ve taken care of you when you were drunk, alex turcotte.”

he flinches.

“no, i’m sorry. that was harsh,” you shake your head and wrap your hand around his wrist, feeling his heart beating rapidly against your fingers. “if i didn’t want you, to be with you, i wouldn’t have been alex. i loved you so fucking much. i would’ve waited four years or however many it took for us to be together. i’m sorry that i made you feel like i wouldn’t have.”

“wouldn’t?” he asked.

“you can’t be serious,” you pull away from his arms then, “you ignored me alex. you changed your fucking phone number and then come strolling back in and expect everything to be the same as it was before you left. a year ago, i would’ve gone with you anywhere, but now? i wouldn’t walk down the street with you.”

he sighs, dropping down onto the futon pressed against the wall and burying his face in his hands. you lean against your bed and stare at the wall of pictures above him.

“would you let me make it up to you?” he asks, voice muffled by his hands. “can i have a second chance?”

“did you not hear anything that i just said?”

“i heard every single thing that you just said, y/n. you might as well have just punched me in my fucking stomach,” he says, looking up at you with red-rimmed eyes. “i know that i’ve got no right to be here. i’ve got no right to ask you to forgive me right now. i’ve got no right to ask for you back. all i’m asking, though, is for one more chance. one more chance and i swear on my career that it will not be something that you regret.”

“please do not stake your career on me, alex,” you sigh, pulling on the ends of your sleeves, “and what if i say no?”

“then i’ll leave you alone,” he promises. “i will get on my plane in the morning and you will never hear from me again. you can move on with your life.”

“i’ve been trying for a year, to move on that is, but you’re fucking everywhere. you’re too good,” you laugh and he chuckles.

“you’re too good for me,” he says and you nod.

“you really fucked me up,” you say, looking down at the floor. your slipper covered feet shift back and forth, “and you know that you did. i can tell. i’m not gonna let you do it again.”

he sighs as he looks to the ground.

“if you’re thinking about leaving, will you just tell me next time? i don’t want to go through that again.”

his head shoots up, “what do you mean?”

“i’m asking you to just talk to me this time. let it end mutually and not with you moving across state lines and changing your phone number,” you shrug, “i also mean that i’m going to get so much shit from cassidy for giving you another chance.”

you can see it all click in his head. he shoots up from the futon and crashes into you, spinning you in a circle before resting his forehead against yours. his eyes flicker down to your lips, “will you let me?”

and you did.

you let him take you apart and put you back together just like you used to. he was gentle, holding your hand and telling you how sorry he was. how much he regretted everything and how much he loved you. how he would never do it again.

it was much later when everyone else on your floor was asleep but you were wide awake. you crane your neck upwards to look at him, “what are you thinking about?”

“about how you’re the person making me not want to get on that flight tomorrow morning,” he answers, fingers trailing along your side.

you shake your head, giggling softly, “if you think that i won’t drive you to the airport myself and put you on that plane, then you really don’t know me at all.”

he smiles, “i’m gonna miss that.”

“what?” you raise an eyebrow.

“your laugh,” he sighs, pulling you closer. you wrap an arm around his bicep, “one day, i promise you, i’m buying you a one way to wherever the fuck i am.”

“don’t make promises that you can’t keep,” you mumble and he makes a noise of objection. “you’ve done it before. you just left and forgot about us. there are other girls out there alex. i don’t know why they’re so hung up on me.”

“i can’t forget us. i’ll never forget us,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours gently. “you especially. you loved me before i went round one. those girls, they see the contract and want me. you couldn’t care less if i played hockey or not.”

“but if you didn’t play hockey we wouldn’t have met,” you wage and he hums. “there’s really girls that are like that?”

“not you. you’re different,” he grins, “do you want to know why?”

“why can’t you forget me alex?” you thumb at his cheek.

“because you’re so fucking money baby,” he teases just like he used to because he knew that he hated it. you try and shove him away but he won’t let you, “no. you’re mine for a few more hours.”

“well try and sleep then. i have a class and you have a flight in the morning.”

it was hard walking him downstairs the next morning. it seemed like you were there for hours holding onto him beside his car. last time you let him go, you didn't see him for a year. he called you as soon as he pulled away from campus and you were on the phone with him his entire drive back to plymouth. you only hung up when he had to go through airport security and couldn’t talk anymore.

a few hours later, you were sitting in your eleven am when your phone lit up from the edge of the table.

i’ll be back soon

you’re so money and don’t let anyone tell you different

i love you forever